She was long and angular, with enormous fishy eyes behind big bone-rimmed spectacles, and her hair in a tight wad at the back of her head and jaw --well, it looked so solid that for the moment i began to doubt my very own senses and believe she was real after all .
she came over and stood in front of me and glared -yes,positively glared down at me although i had never laid my eyes on the woman before, to say nothing of giving her cause to look at me like!
I sat still, feeling pretty helpless i can tell you, and at last she barked. ''What are you gaping at ?''
I swallowed, though i hadn't been chewing anything.
''Nothing'', i said. ''Absolutely nothing. My dear lady, I was merely waiting you to tell me why had you come. And excuse me,but do you always come in sections like this .?
I should think your parts might get mixed up sometimes ...
''Didn't you send for me?'' she crisped
Imagine how i felt at that!
''Why,no. I-- I don't seem to remember ---''
''Look here. Haven't you been calling on heaven and earth all afternoon to help you write a story?''
I nodded.. and then a possible explanation occured to me and my spine got cold.
Suppose this was the ghost of stenographer applying for a job! I had placed an advertisement in the paper recently.
I opened my mouth to explain that the position was filled, and permanently so, but she stopped me .
''And when i got back to the office from my last case and was ready for you, didn't you switch off to something else and sit there drivelling so i couldn't attract your attention until just now?''
''I-- I'm very sorry, really''.
''Well, you needn't be, because I just came to tell you to stop bothering us for assistance; you ain't going to get it. We're going on a strike!''
''What!''
''You don't have to yell at me.''
''I--I didn't mean to yell. I said humbly. ''But i'am afraid I didn't quite understand you. Uou said you were---''
''Going on a strike. Don't you you know what a strike is?''
Not another plot you got from us!''
I stared at her and wet my lips.
''Is-- is that where they've been coming from?''
''Of course. where else?''
''But my ghosts aren't a bit like you---''
''If they were, people wouldn't believe in them.'' ''She draped herself on the top of my desk among the pen and ink bottles leaned towards me.
''In other life I used to write.''
''You did!''
She nodded.
''But that has nothing to do with my present form. It might have, but I gave it up for at last for that very reason, and went to work as a reader on a magazine.''
She sighed, and rubbed the end of her long eagle nose with a reminiscent finger. ''Those were terrible days; the memory of them made me mistake purgatory for paradise, and at last when I attained my present state of being, I made up my mind that something should be done.
I found others who had suffered similarly, and between us we organized 'The Writer's Inspiration Bureau.'
We scout until we find a writer without ideas and with a mind soft enough to accept impression. The case in brought attention of the main office, and one of us assigned to it. When that case is finished we bring a report.''
''But i never saw you before---''
''And you wouldn't have this time if I hadn't come to announce the strike. Many a time I've leaned on your shoulder when you've thought you were thinking hard--''
I groaned, and clutched my hair. The very idea of that horrible scarecrow so much as touching me!
And wouldn't my wife be shocked! I shivered. ''But'', she continued, ''that's at an end.
We've been called out of our's beds a little too often in recent years, and now we're through.''
''But my dear madam, I assure you I have had nothing to do with that. I hope i'm properly grateful and all that, you see.''
''Oh, it isn't you,'' she explained patronizingly.
''It's those Ouija board (planchette) fanatics. There was a time when we had nothing much to occupy us and used to haunt a little on the side, purely for amusement, but not any more. We've had to give up haunting almost entirely. We sit at a desk and answer questions now. And such qustions!''
She shook her head hopelessly, and put them back on her nose again.
''But what have I got to do with this?''
She gave me a pitying look and rose.
''You're to exert your influence. Get all your friends and acquaintances to stop using the Ouija board, and then we'll start helping you to write.''
''But---''
There was a footstep outside my door.
''Swayam! Oh Swayu!'' called the voice of my wife.
I waved my arms at the ghost with something of the motion of a beginner when learning to swim ...
''Madam, I must ask you to leave, and at once. Consider the impression if you were seen here---''
The ghost nodded, and began, very sensibly, I thought, to demobilize and evaporate.
First the brogans on her feet grew misty until I could see the floor through them, then the affection spread to her knees and extended upwards. By this time my wife was opening the door.
''Don't forget the strike,'' she repeated while her lower jaw began to disintegrate, and as my Sharon crossed the room to me the last vestige of her ear faded into space.
''Swayu, why in the world are you sitting in that dark?''
''Just---thinking, my dear.''
''Thinking, rubbish! You were talking out loud.''
I remained silent while she lit the lamps, thankful that her back was turned to me. When I am nervous or excited there is a muscle im my face that starts to twitch, and this pulls up one corner of my mouth and gives the appearance of an idiotic grin. So far i had managed to conceal this affection from Sharon.
''You know i bought the loveliest thing this afternoon. Everybody's wild over them!''
I remembered her craze for taking up new fads and a premonitory chill crept up the back of my neck.
''It-- it isn't---'' I began and stopped. I simply couldn't ask; the possibility was too horrible.
''You'd never guess in the world.
It's the duckliest, darlingest _____
***
That's for now!
A cliffhanger ... Sowie but love to give turns in mah story..
Next Update only after 30 Likes.
Promise to complete this very soon ...
With Love <3
Ur's Shailja aka sweets
***
Some terms which could have bothered you -
Ouija Board / Planchete: A board on which are marked letters of alphabets. Answers to questions are spelt out by
a pointer or glass held by the fingertips of the participants, and are supposedly formed by spiritual forces
->The supposed power to see objects or events that cannot be perceived by the senses.
Shirtwaist: A woman's blouse shaped like a man's shirt.
Driveling: Speak nonsense.
Draped: Lolled, sit in an indolent manner.
Reminiscent: With one's mind full of memories.
Brogans: A heavy ankle-high work boot with laces.
Premonitory: A foreboding.
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Pheeew! Done ...
Fast reviews Peeps!! 😛
Really wanna see good amount of comments after like breaking my fingy again! 😃
Trust me .. it takes a lot of guts for me to write wid this fractured fingy!
Please this time i want good reviews !! Where are the fans ? From next time no update if i don get the likes guyyz ! 😳
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Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi 2
Indian Mythology
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