Read My Crap - The Visitor
Read My Crap - The Visitor
Weird, I'm just sitting here working away as usual when suddenly I'm hit with the strong aroma of womens perfume. There isn't anyone else here. But, strangely enough I don't exactly actually smell it, it's like the memory of scent, but it fills my scent anyway. If I sniff around, I smell nothing. But if I sit and try not to smell, it comes back. Then I sniff and I smell nothing again. Kind of an odd thing to have happen out of nowhere. There is no one else here but me and the kitty and he certainly doesn't wear perfume.
Maybe it's my speed stick I put on this morning, but my cheap deodorant certainly doesn't smell like this. This was like, old lady levels. You know, like the kind that used to wear so much that when they'd get into the swimming pool you could see it actually floating off of them in the water like an oily residue. Or those that worse tons to cover up other foul body odors. It smells old. Strange ghostly scents. Maybe I have a visitor with me. I don't feel off though or like someone is watching me. My radar shows all clear throughout. Maybe a simple hello from an ancient ancestor or a random aethereal walker.
I keep seeing a Victorian era dress in my mind. There is no one in it, it just kind of floats there like a 19th century photo in black and white, looking like a forgotten photo that has been kicking around in old boxes in attics and basements for 140 years. It seems as if there is someone wearing it as it has shape, but I can't see them. Just the dress. This house wasn't even here in that era, so I don't know.
The smell has faded, but still lingers. I can still see the dress in my minds eye. Maybe she just wants to show me her new dress. It's nice, very shapely a pretty, I wish I could see the color instead of what seems to be an ancient photograph, but hey, nice dress, lady! Im sure you'd look lovely in it, if I could see you. But from what I can see, you look great, now off to the ball with your dashing gentlemen who I'm sure has sent a carriage for you by now. You don't want to be late.
I can see half of a woman's face now, it's really close up, back off a little, it's like a zoom lense up to 3 inches from her face, she's pretty and has nice skin, very delicate and tempting, and hey, she's smiling. She has a big smile, almost creepily big, but don't go there, don't let your mind turn this into something frightening, which I have a tendency to do. Next thing I know she'll transform into a scary skeleton and start roaring at me. But no, I can feel the warmth from her skin. I'm still up too damn close.
She's happy and warm, I want to touch her cheek, feel her skin, but she won't let me. It's like one of those Facebook chats where you can only see what the person writes and react to it, you don't get to say anything or interact, you're highly limited on what you can do. That's okay, I don't like rando's touching me either. She wants me to know that she belongs to someone else but is passing me light and love. It's bright, like looking into a bright white sun. I can almost see it with my waking eyes.
Shit, I hope I'm not dying, am I dying? Maybe. I'm probably just completely insane now. It's hard not to go insane in these heavy times with the world and whatnot.
Anyway, thanks for the Soul Email, lady. Whoever you are. Have a nice eternity.
Yours,
P.N. Neville from the year 2025
