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Carolotta's New Roommates
After rechecking my bank statement, I discovered there was enough money to cover the rent. Just as I was about to breathe a sigh of relief, two orange and red orbs sailed through the living room walls. I heard people conversing as well. But I didn't see them.
"Whoa!" uttered a female.
"Looks like a good fit," remarked a male.
"Clean house," declared another female.
"I wonder if she has any rum?" asked the other male.
Then I realized the folks talking were spirits inside the balls.The spheres promptly arranged themselves into a single file and rushed towards me. I attempted to move, but I wasn't quick enough. I felt like I was on fire as the orbs entered my body.
So what's next I thought. My life’s journey included six lay-offs, being homeless, sexual abuse as a child, surviving an apartment building fire, and defeating breast cancer. What could four spirits possibly do to me?
My new roommates started fighting among themselves like kids. “Will you shut up!” I yelled. The group became silent. Moments later, a woman giggled. The others followed with thunderous laughter.
“She’s loco,” a male commented.
“Let’s go,” said another.
“That’s a good idea!" I shouted. They didn’t leave, but played those darn drums.
The drumming, hand clapping, and foot stomping went on for hours. While I emailed clients to solicit more work and searched the net for graphic art jobs. I needed some quick cash to pay my DWP and cell phone bills. Periodically, I sensed one of the spirits gazing at the laptop screen along with me.
“We’re hungry,” a female hollered, “Fix us some collard greens and hot water cornbread!”
“Carlotta doesn’t cook!” I bellowed.
The drumming, hand clapping, and foot stomping stopped at once. The group called me disgusting names. One of them even pinched me. The couch I was sitting on levitated. The kitchen cupboard doors and drawers flew open. Plates and glasses floated off the shelves. Spoons, forks and butter knives drifted out of the tidies.Then the tableware swirled about the kitchenette.
I was scared. Me - the full court press, take no prisoners lady. It finally registered they would hurt me. If I didn't cooperate. “All right, I’ll cook!" The sofa was lowered to the floor. The dishware and glassware were returned to the shelves, the cutlery to the drawers. And the cupboard doors and drawers were closed.
The only food in the house were four bunches of collards and an onion. I used a half empty box of cornmeal for the bread. After I finished cooking, I placed a platter of greens and a plate of cornbread on the dining room table. I was astonished at how quickly the food vanished.
“She's a great cook,” a male commented.
“Yeah,” a female responded.
Amazingly, ten twenty dollar bills appeared on the table. And when I checked my emails, one of my clients was offering a one year contract.
© 2015 Irma Cowthern