It had been superstition then, and it was superstition now, a stupid game to play to spook one another out.
On the coffee table, the candle flickered. He felt the medium’s hand suddenly grip his own with surprising firmness, a small yelp of surprise escaping his lips, his eyes snapping open.
“They…wish…They wish…to deliver it…in person.”
Across the table, he saw Swanson’s eyes open, her face suddenly alive with concern.
The candle toppled, coming dangerously close to igniting the aged leather of the shoe. The flame exploded in a tower of light and heat that rushed up and scorched the ceiling in a way that was sure to leave a mark, a way that reminded John again of being at school once more, of pulling the rubber pipes from the gas taps and blowing into them suddenly, transforming the B
