Falling Pages
@memorianimaâ liked for a starter
Some days more than others, Alexei questioned what the lot heâd been assigned in life allowed him to actually do with his time on the mortal plane.
He could see and communicate with spirits of nearly any type, and heâd gotten reasonably good at negotiating with them, but it wasnât a service he charged for regularly. Charging fees for exorcisms and home-cleansing services was usually the work of scam artists, especially as they hit four figures. He preferred to charge only for the equivalent of minimum wage instead, but he usually tacked on a small fee if he was injured on a call. Heâd made about $100 from being hit with projectile books and cups since heâd started practicing, and an additional $50 for the antlers that now adorned his head.
Instead, he supplemented his income by giving banjo lessons, playing at kidsâ bar mitzvahs in his old neighborhood and busking in the street when he got bored. The latter was always a good choice when it came to people-watching. It was proving an especially good choice in certain sectors and districts of this city--some were intriguing and full of faces and conversations unlike any heâd ever seen, while others were outright unsettling.
Sector 004 was proving to be more in line with the former, but he never stuck around after dark. Glancing at people here was always fun, with lots of variation in what he saw at any given time. However, there were always a few that caught his eye.
Such was the case for the younger girl that caught his eye. He wasnât sure how much of a hurry she was in, but he knew heâd seen her drop the softbound book onto the walkway a few feet ahead of him. He was in the middle of a verse, but he stopped immediately.
âUh, miss?â He called out to her, getting up to grab the fallen book as quickly as he could. It wouldnât be any good if it got stepped on anyway. Getting louder so her wouldnât be drowned out, he said again, âI think youâve dropped something!â









