Monday morning, I finished reading Thirteen Doorways, Wolves Behind Them All by Laura Ruby. As a novel, it's simultaneously harrowing and uplifting. It's also a ghost story, in part.
Monday afternoon, I went walking in search of ghosts. Unsurprisingly, I ended up in a cemetery. I paused at this gravestone.
I wondered about this man who died at age 86 in 1918, the first year of the so-called Spanish flu. William, did a virus claim you, too?
On my return home, a helicopter hovered overhead. I don't know why. I observed how my thoughts that had skewed morbid, now shifted paranoid.
Monday night, I visited NPR's Tiny Desk. The first song of the latest small-scale concert featured these lyrics: "My girl, give a smile when the pain comes; pain, the only thing that'll make it all right. She says she talks to angels."
Which whirls me back to one of the main character in Thirteen Doorways, Pearl, a girl who does smile through pain and at times talks to an angel.