Graveyard Dirt

I looked up at the cluster of signs and arrows. I looked down at the note in my hand. I looked up at the cluster of acronyms and directions. I looked down at the uneven scrawl on the note. Nothing matched.

“Fuck me,” I whispered to myself in frustration.

“That could be arranged, sweetheart.” The responding voice slithered in one ear and out the other. I was too stunned by the gentleness of the offer to even think about jumping in surprise. Instead, I stood still as I could not determine which direction the voice started or ended at.

A chuckle tickled my left ear even as a hand softly pulled my note to the right. Too late I realized that there really was someone with me. I clutched my hand on nothing.

“Well, you’re in the right spot, but in the wrong mind, duvie. Whomever sent you didn’t properly prepare you for this, but that’s okay, we can fix that on the way.” A white-painted face with black lips blew a kiss at me before flashing a strangely toothed grin. They held my note in their left hand as they stood on my left side. I glanced back to see who took the note from me on my right, but there was no one there.

“How can I be in the right spot when none of these signs match what I’m supposed to be looking for?” How could I hold a conversation with this… person… when I’m not even sure what was supposed to happen in the first place? Who was this person, anyway?

They handed my note back to me. The paper was now all crumpled in a way that made the scrawl appear to be completed by the addition of wrinkles. It suddenly made sense. I looked up at the cluster of signs. Individually, the signs all pointed to something expected, something real. But collectively, the way the signs were mounted in relation to each other matched the way the wrinkles in the paper gave the scrawl definition. Somehow, the combination of signs created a new sign that I suddenly saw superimposed over them all. A sign that couldn’t exist.

“This is wrong.” I thought that was an inside thought that not even I could hear. My thought was as wrong as the sign.

“That’s why it’s right, sweetheart!” They pushed and pulled on my left arm even as I heard them chuckle to my right. I followed the sound of their voice and turned to face them. “Oh, you learn fast, dear duvie. Good.” They blew a kiss to me again before flashing their very sharp teeth. “So, why are you here if not to get fucked?”

I should have turned around and fled. I should have thrown the note into the drain at my feet. I should have declined to run this errand. I should have known better than to trust an artist, even if that artist is a good friend. Most of the time, anyway.”

I should definitely know better than to tell the truth.

I did it anyway.

“My friend, she, uh …” I swallowed hard to remedy a suddenly dry mouth. “She’s on a project and sent me here to pick up some supplies for her."

I looked down in sudden embarrassment. It took me far too long to realize that the person … that is to say … the … something … that I was talking to … was floating off the ground with their legs slightly bent under them and their feet twisting around each other like so much animated smoke.

“Oh, she did, did she, sweetheart?” Another chuckle that sounded like it came from behind me. I did not turn to look. “How sweet of you, duvie, to fetch her supplies for her. Yes, how endearing, and nice. So nice.”

The voice, despite being only sound, somehow licked my cheek. “And how are you going to pay for her supplies, sweetheart? The supplies that she sent you for, duvie?”

“Pay?” My cheek tingled where they had touched it. I was suddenly very tired, suddenly very wired, suddenly very giddy, suddenly very worried, suddenly every emotion that I had been denying myself on the precipice of overwhelming me.

I felt their teeth at my unlicked cheek, at my throat, at my ear, at my hands, at every inch of bare skin.

I felt their sight roving over me like soft touches of incense and smoke. I suddenly wanted to know what they felt like in return. I suddenly knew that all I had to do was to consent, and I would do more than get fucked. I would have everything I ever wanted.

The idea of that fulfillment snapped me back to the task at hand. All I ever wanted was for my friends to be happy. I was here to pick up some supplies that would make one friend in particular very happy. If I were to indulge these alien desires, then I would not bring the supplies back to her in time. That awareness smothered the strange heat that was crawling under my skin.

“Oh! Pay! She said that the supplies had already been paid in full and that I just needed to present her note to show proof that she had sent me! So, where do I go to pick them up? I was supposed to come here to this sign post and wait for delivery but is this the wrong sign?”

“Oh.” The voice was suddenly behind me and their personage was nowhere to be seen. “It’s right here, sweetheart. Get it and get out. We’re done, duvie.”

I turned around and there was a cloth bag just sitting there. I looked for the voice I had heard but saw no one. I looked at the signs on the post and saw nothing. I looked at the scrawl on the note.

Nothing matched, just like she said it would.