There is rain sliding down the window and there is hot water sliding down her skin. The glass mists.
The grey sky leaks dull light into her room. The mutable borders of colour meld into a formless monochrome.
She dresses. She places a holy symbol around her neck. She picks up the bundles of incense and the worn gilded tools of her trade and bundles them into her bag. Then she gets her lunch from the fridge.
She sits in her car and looks at the time. 06.57. Three minutes to brace herself. She sits and listens to the drum of the rain on the windshield.
07.00. She turns the engine over. She turns on the receiver. There are dozens of calls backed up already and more flooding in.
Triage. There's an active possession in progress in Woodley and no one else has responded yet. Call came in six minutes ago. There's still time.
She guns the engine and speeds off down her street. Gonna be one hell of a shift. Hallowe'en, busiest day of the year.
Paddy Dobson
31st October 2021