without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer ( http://www.novapdf.com ) crime? I've been tryin' to get yer bleedin' attention all bloody night! Coo! Yer a dense bugger!"
Palmer noticed that parts of Chaz were semitransparent. The dead man drew another lung full of smoke from his phantom cigarette, causing his midsection to swirl. Palmer wondered if he'd still be toking on his beloved Shermans a year after his own death.
"Look, there's not much time left. Mardi Gras night's one of th' few times th'
friggin' spirits of th' dead can corporalize 'n mingle with th' livin'. As it 'tis, it's damn near Ash Wednesday. I know we dead men ain't supposed to be tellin' tales, but I was ne'er one for th' rules. So take some advice from one who knows, eh? Get th' hell outta town while yer able. Fuck gettin' yer money from Pangloss. Just get on th' next bleedin' bus outta town and don't look back! Fergit y' ever laid eyes on her!" "Who-?"
"Who th' bloody fuck y'think I mean? Sonja soddin' Blue! The Bloofer Lady herself! She's death, boyo! Death on two legs! Pure 'n simple. Not that she can help it, mind you. It's just her way. But knowin' that won't help you none when the time comes. An' it will. Look, mate-I was a real pisser when I was like you. Alive, that is.
Bein' dead's changed how I see things. It innit pretty, lookin' back an' seein' meself for th' bastard I was. But it ain't bad, really. Actually, I prefer it to how things was when I was flesh 'n' blood. So mebbe how she did me weren't so bad. Mebbe."
Palmer's stomach knotted tighter. "Are you saying she-" "Snuffed me? Aye, that she did. Ain't you th' bright student? She killed me, awright. Just like she did th'
lads with th' blue hair. She was feelin' her oats that night. Not that I should blame her for it-but I still do. I guess I haven't been knackered long enough t' forgive her fer that. But I don't hate th' lass, if that's what yer gettin' at. Like I said, bein' dead changed how I look at things. I used t' think I hated her, back when I was alive.
Now I see that I loved her, that was me problem. Me! Lovin' someone! It scared me so bad I got to hatin' her fer it. That's why I did her th' way I did. That's why she did me th' way she did. Love. Funny how death makes things so much clearer, innit?"
"Then why are you warning me, if you're so ambivalent?" Palmer's fear had abated in the face of this mundane, chain-smoking specter. He was starting to feel more aggravated than frightened.
"Shall we say you 'n me, we're kindred spirits?" Chaz's smirk widened. "That bullet did more'n punch a hole in yer skin, ducks. It woke up somethin'. Jump-started it, as it were. Yer what they call a 'sensitive.' How else y'fancy ol' Pangloss found you, eh? You might have been unconscious th' whole time you was in hospital, but part of you was broadcastin' like a bloody shortwave radio! They like usin' sensitives like you-an' me. We make handy servants, don't you know? So far you've only had a taste of what it's like-'avin' th' world turn itself inside out like a bloomin' magician's sack, an' you bein' th' only one noticin'. But get used t' it, mate.
Yer'll ne'er get t' like it, but yer'll get used t'it, if it don't drive you mad first. Like it did me mum. An' yer Uncle Willy." "Wait a second! What do you mean? "
"Sorry, luv. Seems me time's run out." The bell in the basilica's tower rang, marking the transition from excess to penance. Chaz grinned as he stepped into the
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"What do you mean? Who are they?" Second stroke. Third stroke.
The ghost laughed and shook his insubstantial head. "Yer not goin' t' leave it be, are you? Yer in love with her already! You don't even know it, yet, but I can see it in th' folds of yer brain, mate!" Fourth stroke. Fifth stroke. "Why are you telling me these things? Why?"
"Because y'put flowers on me grave, that's why! Th' dead are a sentimental
Palmer noticed that parts of Chaz were semitransparent. The dead man drew another lung full of smoke from his phantom cigarette, causing his midsection to swirl. Palmer wondered if he'd still be toking on his beloved Shermans a year after his own death.
"Look, there's not much time left. Mardi Gras night's one of th' few times th'
friggin' spirits of th' dead can corporalize 'n mingle with th' livin'. As it 'tis, it's damn near Ash Wednesday. I know we dead men ain't supposed to be tellin' tales, but I was ne'er one for th' rules. So take some advice from one who knows, eh? Get th' hell outta town while yer able. Fuck gettin' yer money from Pangloss. Just get on th' next bleedin' bus outta town and don't look back! Fergit y' ever laid eyes on her!" "Who-?"
"Who th' bloody fuck y'think I mean? Sonja soddin' Blue! The Bloofer Lady herself! She's death, boyo! Death on two legs! Pure 'n simple. Not that she can help it, mind you. It's just her way. But knowin' that won't help you none when the time comes. An' it will. Look, mate-I was a real pisser when I was like you. Alive, that is.
Bein' dead's changed how I see things. It innit pretty, lookin' back an' seein' meself for th' bastard I was. But it ain't bad, really. Actually, I prefer it to how things was when I was flesh 'n' blood. So mebbe how she did me weren't so bad. Mebbe."
Palmer's stomach knotted tighter. "Are you saying she-" "Snuffed me? Aye, that she did. Ain't you th' bright student? She killed me, awright. Just like she did th'
lads with th' blue hair. She was feelin' her oats that night. Not that I should blame her for it-but I still do. I guess I haven't been knackered long enough t' forgive her fer that. But I don't hate th' lass, if that's what yer gettin' at. Like I said, bein' dead changed how I look at things. I used t' think I hated her, back when I was alive.
Now I see that I loved her, that was me problem. Me! Lovin' someone! It scared me so bad I got to hatin' her fer it. That's why I did her th' way I did. That's why she did me th' way she did. Love. Funny how death makes things so much clearer, innit?"
"Then why are you warning me, if you're so ambivalent?" Palmer's fear had abated in the face of this mundane, chain-smoking specter. He was starting to feel more aggravated than frightened.
"Shall we say you 'n me, we're kindred spirits?" Chaz's smirk widened. "That bullet did more'n punch a hole in yer skin, ducks. It woke up somethin'. Jump-started it, as it were. Yer what they call a 'sensitive.' How else y'fancy ol' Pangloss found you, eh? You might have been unconscious th' whole time you was in hospital, but part of you was broadcastin' like a bloody shortwave radio! They like usin' sensitives like you-an' me. We make handy servants, don't you know? So far you've only had a taste of what it's like-'avin' th' world turn itself inside out like a bloomin' magician's sack, an' you bein' th' only one noticin'. But get used t' it, mate.
Yer'll ne'er get t' like it, but yer'll get used t'it, if it don't drive you mad first. Like it did me mum. An' yer Uncle Willy." "Wait a second! What do you mean? "
"Sorry, luv. Seems me time's run out." The bell in the basilica's tower rang, marking the transition from excess to penance. Chaz grinned as he stepped into the
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"What do you mean? Who are they?" Second stroke. Third stroke.
The ghost laughed and shook his insubstantial head. "Yer not goin' t' leave it be, are you? Yer in love with her already! You don't even know it, yet, but I can see it in th' folds of yer brain, mate!" Fourth stroke. Fifth stroke. "Why are you telling me these things? Why?"
"Because y'put flowers on me grave, that's why! Th' dead are a sentimental
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