Ghost Office Job
Created | Updated Dec 15, 2019
Nearly through November, and not one word about anything supernatural in my tale for the Post.
So.... Just been annoyed by the bloody demonic postman banging the hell out of my front door to try and deliver a letter for next door but one. Poor guys do a rough job.....
Ghost Office Job
My job's not exactly all potter's wheels and Whoopi Goldberg!
Which is exactly why I hated contacting the living.
They all had this arty farty preconception that any message from the 'other side' would be accompanied by heart-warming cinemagraphic flashbacks and an upbeat soundtrack.
How wrong they were!
The Druids (and, more recently, Goths and Metalheads) were closer to the mark, but still, way, way off the awful truth.
I suppose box office takings would plummet if Demi found herself vomiting cockroaches whilst a lake of acidic fire burned her from the inside out?
Try smiling wistfully into camera whilst your legs become molten lava and your brain feels like a thousand icicles are growing inward to freeze your soul.
Get the idea? Messages from here are not nice.
The 'gift' of clairvoyants, mediums, spiritualists, shamen, seers, saints or prophets, whatever, is much more of a curse (which is probably why most of them go barking mad, or were nutjobs long before their spiritual pagers beeped).
Today, for example, (we'll call it 'today' - as time is another one of those concepts that really, truly, doesn't go exactly like you think, not even close! Whoever said 'as sure as night follows day' was delusional) a brief message from Beyond for a young lad from his beloved grandfather.
Standard 'I'm fine, better place, don't eat yellow snow, yadder, yadder, yadder'. Economy message, receipt required.
To be honest, I'd given up even registering the actual messages, just do my job, ignore the insect vomit, and get the heck out of there before the screaming started.
The, erm, conduit, I suppose, had (until that moment) been dabbling with the idea of joining the clergy, fascinated by all things Heavenly and Divine.
'Now I lay me down to sleep….' Poor little love.
In my reality, I'd given a soft, polite cough, the kind of hint the English give at the Post Office when they know the counter person is probably ignoring them on purpose, but is too polite to have a good rant.
In your reality, my soft 'ahem' sounded more like Joshua and his thugs had blasted their rendition of Ace of Spades at full volume on their stupid ram's horns into both ears!
And...yup...cue the retching...here it comes...ooh, millipedes, bit unusual!
I stepped cautiously over the molten legs and whispered the message into those burning ears, my soft words turning into icy soul piercing daggers (as bleeding usual!).
Message delivered, just before the inhuman wailing began, I held out the receipt.
'And just a signature here please guv! Ta...you have a good day now!'
Two more deliveries and bingo, shift done, I could get out of this stupid uniform and go down the pub!
Hate this time of year, all the extra messages to deliver, no thanks, no tips, I wish I'd stayed at school….could've been an angel by now, cushy bloody job that'd be!
