Thursday, November 17, 2011

HEED THE VOICES YOU KNOW ARE THERE....... WHISPERS IN THE NIGHT

My name is Glenda...and I gotta talk fast. No, I am not a good witch, but only yet another disembodied spirit. In my fleshly days, I walked the Thames Embankment as an eight pence doxie. That's a cheap whore to you. But life was hard. This was back in the time of The Merry Monarch... the second Charles. You know, the one responsible for breedin' up all them wide-eyed, little yappy dogs.Succumbed to the plague, I did. Five days a torture. Fevers. Boils. Ghosty buggies runnin' up and down mr filthy legs. My man did his best. Poured lots a good gin down my pie-hole (in my day, it was meat pies). Pissed most of it out on the mattress. Guess it helped repell the red-runners. Bed bugs to you.

But then came that night.  Even the rats were quiet. God's breath slowly left me. Through me snot. Through me sweat. Through me shit. Don't no one knowed it back then, but my shed-off spittals took twenty four 'plague bunnies' wit 'em, they did. What are you askin' me!? You wanna know how I passed? Just like everybody else you poxy bastards. They oughta burn your arse in the Fiery Lake! How can ye even put them words to me ? I might a been a red-lipped, curb-skipper, but I was still a good woman. Ask me 'Two Kiss Chollies.' They'll spit it out, yeh scabby-legged bread theives! Now, what was I fixin' to tell yeh?  Oh, yeah, how I  went 'gook.' Shined a light down me puss they did.  Them what was upstairs in Paradise, I mean. A dead, fat cousin called me name. Died from a hasty hangin', I think he did. Wiped his beak on the sleeve of a dumb lookin' angel singin' next to him and  up I went, whoosh, like ash through a chimney. Just.. like.. yer.. Santy Claus. Slow and nice, like snow goin' backwards.

Then some fuck-faced bitch pulls me aside and says no, I can't go in. Real whiney voice. Just like some little-miss-mother superior whose pop can't grease her way into no convent. Wanted to kick her right in a tit. Either one. Don't make no difference.

Never got me chance, though, 'cause  next thing I'm whaftin' through blazes. Real blazes, I mean. You knows 'bout the Great Fire, don't yeh? Well, I was there, blowin' through the smoke.... wakin' folks up and settin' 'em straight. Saved scores, I did. Earned me first Heaven points too. But them what keeps the books wants ten score more. So I'm workin this new fiasco. That's why you're hearin' me tonight. Ain't no wet-eyed, do-goody vampires here now. They don't even know 'bout me. But you do. And I come to set you straight. That part where their Jonathon tells yeh - Fist of all, we must agree that what comes next is fiction........is true. The tale is real. Them what lives 'round other stars is comin.'  And some wants to be yer 'aunties' and some got other plans....

So pull up yer knickers and get on with it. Clean the cubboard and wash yer floors. Shake hands wit them what lives 'cross the way . You're  gonna need them.... One day you will.

Thirteen months.....Thirteen months..... No, I'm wrong......Thirteen months and three days. God bless you. Listen for the night whispers..... I'll be back.......

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