He goes to the meeting with a dissected cow’s eyeball in tow. He sits between a woman with a diorama in her lap and a man with a strangely shaped pear clutched in his hand.
A discussion is happening around her, but she tuned out long ago. Mina’s eyes are fluttering with boredom. She was not meant for this job. She is not good at it.
Coldness seeps into Mina’s bones while she sleeps. When she wakes, even in the hot shower, she’s shivering. She’s unnerved and afraid. Did that thing that happened really happen? She might have imagined it. She might have made it up. She was up all night. She was tired. These things can happen. She knows from books.
The founder was a barrister and a heavy drinker. He forbade anyone who was not related to him by blood to speak or write his name. But he was kind and fair.
The window looks out upon Town Hall Square. There’s a building with a giant eye on it across the way. Beyond the buildings and towers, there’s the small mountain upon which there is a crater that contains her former home. Mina’s new home quarters are the size of her entire former home. She has a bed the size of a swimming pool and a bathtub the size of a swimming pool. Everything is the size of a swimming pool.
Ernst Ng is standing at the oculus in the Eye Science building. The pupil. He chews his tuna salad sandwich as he stares out the circular window without seeing anything in particular. The bread is a little soggy. Not ideal.
Thistle’s bones stand a stone’s throw from Founder’s Elementary. April visits often. She feels an affinity with the bones. Both stuck in one place.
With the crinkled clipping of Carol’s obit in her pocket, April seats herself across the table from a new psychic. She brushes back her brown fluffy hair and makes a neutral expression. She’s dressed for school — black skirt past her knees, black tights, white blouse. Her brown eyes stare back at the psychic’s hazel ones.
This place is small, about the size of a large closet and not near as well lit. Silky fabrics adorn the walls. A few coloured crystals sit on the table between April and the psychic.
She spots the obit in the morning paper. It invades her eyes. Carol Jennings. Psychic. Helped many. Passed away into the beyond.