[ @samosets ]
A deep sense of relief washed over Wendy’s bones when she spotted Sam’s reflection on the windows that adorned the shops of Main Street. It was calming, truly, knowing that she’d been paired up with the one person in the group that understood and often shared her own misgivings surrounding the supernatural. There was no malice in her doubt, but some part of her worried if her relentless questioning put a damper in the gang’s dynamic, that perhaps being paired up with Sam had been done on purpose: the non-believers go with the non-believers.
As she quietly walked down the street, absentmindedly flipping her favourite pen between her fingers, she wondered if there was a point in her being there at all when she was so adamant in her own beliefs. Was friendship enough, or a good enough reason, for her to stick around? And was this —playing pretend detective— what she really wanted to do with her life right at this moment, while crucial and life-changing events happened all around her? Questions were all that plagued Wendy’s mind, with no answers in sight.
“How long do you think it will take them to figure out there’s no ghosts here?” another question that bothered her, albeit a more fun and distracting one; one she felt comfortable asking out loud, especially around Sam. They’d been playing this game from the beginning, almost by accident. When she first casually brought up the issue around her friend, Wendy’s regret for putting her foot in her mouth was short-lived. His response set her at ease, made her aware that she was not alone. Now their private game was the only thing that kept her distracted, sane.
“My guess is that we will be in this dump five days, a week tops.”
Sam harbored internal conflict about the idea of ghosts. The people he’d grown up with were varying shades of spiritual– there were certainly some who clung to the ideas of spirits (never ghosts)– but others, like Sam’s father, had a more rational explanation for it all. It was more like a metaphor, Sam had come to call it, a metaphor for being connected to oneself and one’s surroundings. The “spirits” really represented a greater awareness.
But now, with the gang, on a cross-country road trip to find ghosts, Sam found himself feeling cynical, at best. From the first time he met Wendy, Sam gathered that she shared his misgivings. Always looking for the logical explanation, it was no wonder the two got paired up. They’d turned it into a little game, of sorts, finding a way to discuss their doubts aside from the whole group.
Neither of them meant any harm by it. Sam was more than happy to consider the possibility of ghosts, or spirits, or whatever else you want to call them, so long as the possibility of another explanation was also on the table. It just so happened that it usually did have a simpler explanation.
Sam had been thinking about this already. Given the size of the town and the information Sawyer had given them about the case, Sam’s guess was about the same. “I’ll play the odds and say four days,” he chucked. “So, where first? City hall, look for any employment records?”
blakekathryn
pixelskylines
theartofmadeline
vaporwave
gummygunk
gamechangershow
romaincrisis
