her boss had given her enough of a bonus to keep her apartment in Greenwich Village for another month, but she’d have to be out by the end of January. Then what was she going to do? Go back to that little podunk town in Pennsylvania?
“Sure. Like I’m gonna let that happen.” She whispered again, eyes still fixed on the angel. “There’s nothing left for me back there.”
That thought sent a river of ice down her spine, but with little hope of finding employment, there wasn’t much else she could do. No way did she want to go back to the place she was born—and where all her troubles began. Something would come along, and until it did she planned to take each day as it came. She just hoped whatever it was would arrive soon.
Something about the twelve-inch tall crystal figure—with its frosted-looking face, hands, and wings all pointed upward—called out once more, touching a part of her she’d sworn would never see the light of day again. It seemed to have the uncanny ability to pierce even the stoniest of hearts. She knew it was crazy to think that way, but couldn’t help it.
Talk to me .
The voice flew across her mind. She knew it wasn’t a conscious thought of her own, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t happened.
“What?” She was also sure she didn’t have a hearing problem.
Talk to me .
She tore her gaze from the angel and glanced around to see who was nearby. Certainly someone was playing a trick on her. No one was within a hundred feet of her.
I can help, but only if you let me .
So sweet and delicate, that voice. Yet there was an insistent ring to it.
“I don’t know who you are.”
Yes, you do .
Could it be…? No. Crystal figurines can’t do that. It must be her imagination playing with her. Yep, that was it. She’d been so deep in thought about her problems that her mind was using this to bring her back to reality.
That’s not true .
Of course it was. It had to be. If it wasn’t, then the only other possibility was that she was losing her mind. Wouldn’t that be just perfect? To have her brain go whacko on New Year’s Eve, of all days.
You’re not going whacko .
“Yeah? Prove it to me.” Her voice was still a whisper, thankfully. People were beginning to walk by on the sidewalk behind her now.
~~*~~
Glancing around, Allison waited until no one was close enough to hear her one-sided conversation with a crystal figurine on the other side of the wall of glass.
A giggle that sounded more like tiny glass bells tinkling swept through her mind.
Keeping her voice at a whisper, she returned her attention to the angel. “I guess that means you have no proof for me.”
Not at all. It simply means that you will soon know .
“What am I gonna know?”
That I only want to help you. And you aren’t going crazy. You’ll never suffer that way .
That answer struck deep down, turning the marrow in her bones to ice. She’d often had an unbridled fear of becoming insane. She’d asked her father when she was a little girl why Aunt Cindy had to go to an institution. She hadn’t been sure what that was at the time, but she’d soon learned. He’d replied that the women on his side of the family had a tendency to “go off their rockers,” as he’d put it. How could this small statue have any knowledge of that?
I’m not the figurine, and you know it .
Oh? Then it must be a trick of some sort. Maybe even a malevolent spirit. Was that it?
Again, the tinkling. No. Not at all. Far from it, I assure you .
Wait! She hadn’t responded out loud. Was this thing reading her mind now?
I’ve already told you I’m not the figurine or any form of malicious spirit .
“Then I was right,” she whispered, glancing around to confirm that she was alone. She was. “My mind is playing tricks on me. Aunt Cindy, here I come.”
Your aunt is no longer in the institution .
Her mind went blank from the shock for a moment. How did this thing know where her aunt was? Or that the woman
“Sure. Like I’m gonna let that happen.” She whispered again, eyes still fixed on the angel. “There’s nothing left for me back there.”
That thought sent a river of ice down her spine, but with little hope of finding employment, there wasn’t much else she could do. No way did she want to go back to the place she was born—and where all her troubles began. Something would come along, and until it did she planned to take each day as it came. She just hoped whatever it was would arrive soon.
Something about the twelve-inch tall crystal figure—with its frosted-looking face, hands, and wings all pointed upward—called out once more, touching a part of her she’d sworn would never see the light of day again. It seemed to have the uncanny ability to pierce even the stoniest of hearts. She knew it was crazy to think that way, but couldn’t help it.
Talk to me .
The voice flew across her mind. She knew it wasn’t a conscious thought of her own, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t happened.
“What?” She was also sure she didn’t have a hearing problem.
Talk to me .
She tore her gaze from the angel and glanced around to see who was nearby. Certainly someone was playing a trick on her. No one was within a hundred feet of her.
I can help, but only if you let me .
So sweet and delicate, that voice. Yet there was an insistent ring to it.
“I don’t know who you are.”
Yes, you do .
Could it be…? No. Crystal figurines can’t do that. It must be her imagination playing with her. Yep, that was it. She’d been so deep in thought about her problems that her mind was using this to bring her back to reality.
That’s not true .
Of course it was. It had to be. If it wasn’t, then the only other possibility was that she was losing her mind. Wouldn’t that be just perfect? To have her brain go whacko on New Year’s Eve, of all days.
You’re not going whacko .
“Yeah? Prove it to me.” Her voice was still a whisper, thankfully. People were beginning to walk by on the sidewalk behind her now.
~~*~~
Glancing around, Allison waited until no one was close enough to hear her one-sided conversation with a crystal figurine on the other side of the wall of glass.
A giggle that sounded more like tiny glass bells tinkling swept through her mind.
Keeping her voice at a whisper, she returned her attention to the angel. “I guess that means you have no proof for me.”
Not at all. It simply means that you will soon know .
“What am I gonna know?”
That I only want to help you. And you aren’t going crazy. You’ll never suffer that way .
That answer struck deep down, turning the marrow in her bones to ice. She’d often had an unbridled fear of becoming insane. She’d asked her father when she was a little girl why Aunt Cindy had to go to an institution. She hadn’t been sure what that was at the time, but she’d soon learned. He’d replied that the women on his side of the family had a tendency to “go off their rockers,” as he’d put it. How could this small statue have any knowledge of that?
I’m not the figurine, and you know it .
Oh? Then it must be a trick of some sort. Maybe even a malevolent spirit. Was that it?
Again, the tinkling. No. Not at all. Far from it, I assure you .
Wait! She hadn’t responded out loud. Was this thing reading her mind now?
I’ve already told you I’m not the figurine or any form of malicious spirit .
“Then I was right,” she whispered, glancing around to confirm that she was alone. She was. “My mind is playing tricks on me. Aunt Cindy, here I come.”
Your aunt is no longer in the institution .
Her mind went blank from the shock for a moment. How did this thing know where her aunt was? Or that the woman
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