Mad Woman Rambles

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  • Chronicles of a Soul Jumper Novella – Part 2

    I duck inside a bodega on the corner and make my way to the back of the store. Damn it! They caught up to me. They are freaking relentless. “She went this way,” gruff voices called out as men in suits ran by the store’s front door.

    Here we go again. I angrily press the numbers on my phone and listen to the ring tone. When I hear the click, I launch into my rant, “they are on to me. You said this wouldn’t happen! You need to fix this, NOW! I’m on my way to you.” I end the call abruptly and exit the store. I make my way to the subway entrance across the street trying to keep to the shadows of the evening as the sun sets.

    “He had one job. One job! To get me a clean body so I wouldn’t have to keep running.” I mumble to myself taking the stairs down as quickly as possible without falling. “Impractical heels,” I hiss as I stumble on the last step. A couple rush past me, just making it on the train as the doors slide shut.

    “Frack!” I curse as I look around the platform. A disheveled man slumps over on a nearby bench and judging by the smell of cheap alcohol wafting off of him he isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. I move further into the subway.

    A chime sounds and I pull out my phone: K’ is all that comes up. That fucker. This is the last time I deal with an amateur like him. If this wasn’t an emergency I would go to Raheem. But it is and Raheem is still sore over the whole Budapest thing. You would think one hundred years and an apology would be enough to be forgiven.

    “Hey pretty lady, you got a dollar?” the disheveled man asks. The stench of stale liquor smacks me in the face.

    “Ew! Get the Hells away from me!” I shout, quickly moving away from him. He throws me an obscene arm gesture and moves on to a group of women that just entered the subway. I look around noticing more people have joined me on the platform waiting for the next train. Unfortunately, one of them is that damn SNOB fae.

    “How in the Hells does he keep finding me?! Shit, shit, shit,” I mutter and duck behind a column close to the tracks. I chance a peek around the pole to see him holding up that same photo to the group of women and then another couple dangerously making their way towards me.

    “Allah, if you ever loved me, I need this train to get here now,” I quietly pray. Gods only knows if he will listen. I peeked around the column again and almost gave myself away. The fae is just in front of my hiding place. His back is turned, and he is on the phone. I’m done for. I managed to make it almost half a millennium without being caught. There isn’t anyone else close by I could jump into, and I will not go back into a lamp. I’m lost if he turns around. I’ll push him. That’s it. I will push him on the tracks and make a run for it.

    As I set my mind to do just that, the sweetest sound comes to me. The train’s horn blares announcing its arrival. The fae turns back towards the oncoming train as he hangs up his phone. He stands there facing the entrance of the subway just as the doors open and I slip in. I hear his curse as he turns. We lock eyes as the doors slide shut and I wave as the train starts back on its journey.

    April 23, 2025
    books, fantasy, fiction, short-story, supernatural, vampires, witches, writing

  • Chronicles of a Soul Jumper

    No matter how much money I spend on these damn eye creams, they never make these bags go away. I grimace at the reflection in the storefront window. Sighing, I replace my large, dark designer sunglasses trying to hide my shame. I fluff my bangs and begin strolling back down the street towards my luxury apartment.

    Mrs. Bingham steps out of the black town car and looks around spotting me walking towards our building. Dirty old bird. If she wasn’t so old and knocking on death’s door, I would jump into her. Unfortunately, she is, and I am not going to get stuck in a corpse again. I didn’t appreciate it 200 years ago and I wouldn’t appreciate it now even if she is the richest person in our building. The old bird waves when she sees me. My fake million dollar smile automatically slides into place. Years of practicing pays off. Unfortunately, I always have to relearn how to smile with every new body.

    “Oh hello, Mrs. Bingham. Lovely to see you this morning,” I call out to her returning her wave. She nods in acknowledgement and continues to shuffle to the front door. Miguel, the doorman, opens the front door and steps aside to allow her to shuffle through.

    He looks up as Mrs. Bingham finally reaches him and smiles nodding to her. His smile is faker than mine, I scoff. As Mrs. Bingham disappears from sight, another man steps to the other side of the door, his back to me. The stranger is tall and lithe with sandy blonde hair. His ears are slightly pointed. Not enough that norms (humans) would notice but us supes (supernaturals) do. The other man resumes whatever conversation he and Miguel had been having before Mrs. Bingham’s presence interrupted them. Bits and pieces of it float my way, forcing me to stop in my tracks.

    “No, I don’t know any woman who looks like that,” Miguel replies.

    “You sure. She may be older?” the man asks.

    “Nope. She cute. I would have remembered someone like that. She would have stood out to me,” Miguel responses.

    ‘Shit’, I silently curse. They could not have possibly found me so quickly. I’m just being paranoid. Maybe he is looking for a missing person. I try to convince myself as my steps become slow and measured.  

    “Look again, Miguel,” the other man replies, handing a photo to my doorman.

    Miguel takes the photo the man is holding and studies it. He starts to shake his head when he suddenly looks up and sees me. Then smiles. “Maybe our newest resident has seen your mystery woman,” I hear Miguel call out. The other man turns in profile and I freeze.

    “Shit! Shit! Shit! They found me. Freaking SNOB detectives! Freaking fairies!” I murmur to myself. And before he can fully turn, I leap into the alley.

    “Ma’am. Ma’am, stop. I have to ask you some questions!” the other man shouts.

    “Oh no!” I call back over my shoulder as I pick up the pace down the alley to the next street over. Fortunately, it’s rush hour and the streets are packed with people leaving work or heading to happy hour. I blend into the crowd and keep my head down as the man skids to a halt on the sidewalk behind me. I hear him curse and pull out a cellphone.

    “Yeah, it was her. Damn it! She ran,” the man says as he spins in a circle looking for me. With a heavy sigh, I cross the street taking my cell phone out of my purse. This time was supposed to be different. I want my money back.

    April 13, 2025
    demons, funny, urban fantasy, vampires, witches

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