I trained a new girl in town on the job for one day last week. She hasn’t come back but while she was there, we had some great conversations. She’s young (25) and charming and has a knack for making other people talk. As a storyteller, I talked. And talked. I told her about the local legends, the massacre on the beach, the town curse, and some plot points from my (fictional) Apparition Cove series. I told her which parts were fictional. I also told her that I imagine the ghosts moving en masse in the cold fog that wanders the streets of our outpost.
Now, the locals are talking about this new girl in town. She’s psychic, they are telling me. She knew things about this town that someone camping on the beach wouldn’t know. She knows all about the curse, the ghosts, the massacre. She gleaned it from sleeping on the black sand, she told them. She said the ghosts travel in the cold fog and have communicated these stories to her.
She is gorgeous. And charming. And clever.
When I described her to a friend of mine (before the gossip tree relayed the above information), I said, “I couldn’t tell if she’s awesome or just blowing smoke up my ass, like a cold reader.”
A little of both, I suspect.
*update: a month or so has gone by. She left town last week. The Cove does have a way of shaking people loose.