Feverish Ghost Writing
Created | Updated May 17, 2020
The author says: Found I'd written this whilst I was ill1, for the life of me, couldn't remember writing a word of it!
Feverish Ghost Writing
Caziques. On a triple. Really?
'Jesus! No way!' Totting up the scores, he was already 675 points adrift.
She smiled a smile most mothers reserve for struggling children.
'Jesus, no. And it's Yahweh!'
He tipped the board, admitting defeat for the third time that day. Thrashed at CoD, humiliated at Poker and now annihilated at Scrabble. He was regretting using gaming skills as a test. Truly unbelievable this pretty redhead was….
'God, yeah, get it all the time, please can we move on now?' That smile again.
'But God? Really?' He nearly asked Her to prove it again. 'So, if you are erm….'
'God, yes, go on…'
'Why me erm, I mean, erm why not the Pope or Mother Theresa or…..?'
'Ok. Comes down to genetics, way, way back, I owed your ancestors a favour, turns out there was a small print clause We overlooked, that favour passes onto the next generation until the debt is paid. You, my slack-jawed friend are the last in the line, and there's a biggy coming down the tracks!'
'So I could ask for anything from you?' Thoughts of fame, money and women flooded his mind.
'Put your tongue away, I'm not a jinn, doesn't work like that. At all. I owe you a warning. Simple as that. So here it is, take it or leave it, matter of Faith, yadder, yadder…'
The look of disappointment was obvious, but She cracked on.
'My apologies for the final bit, but all Celestial Prophecies are in really boring formats…...here goes, pay attention…
In the year when two score be one,
Pestilence from the East is come.
Build an Ark, stay at home.
For Death seeks those who like to roam.
Gather food and lock your gate
Clean your hands and isolate.
The day will Dawn, the scourge will pass
Mourn those lost
But I've saved your ass!'
Beep.
The alarm clock.
Beep.
The alarm clock?
He awoke, bleary eyed and confused. Weird dreams about...a redhead, Scrabble, a warning not to buy loo rolls in bulk? He needed coffee.
Big day ahead, meeting with the whole Board of the pharmaceutical company he hoped to be dealing with soon.
Probably the reason for the weird dreams?
Fifty minutes later Noah was in a taxi, navigating rush hour in Wuhan, as the daily tide of eleven million souls flooded the streets.
