The town is pretty dead this time of year, which makes it a perfect time to practice forgetting about the illusory visual world and concentrating on the olfactory!
The seagulls and the crows in town know it too. And if you follow them they can lead you all kinds of places.
And with everything laid bare, in Winter, the smelliest can really dominate the landscape.
Which led me back to the dumpster behind the HandyMart.
It was the smell of The Beast.
I think I’m scrying wrong. I’ve set the mirror to 45 degrees, lit the candle, and I can sort of make out a Rueben sandwich. I’ve no idea if it’s corned beef or pastrami, and obviously these are important details.
This sandwich is haunting me.
After setting the scrying mirror to 44.7 degrees, I’ve discovered that the haunted Rueben sandwich is corned beef (not pastrami
“Hello Little Girl.”
“How are things going, Beast?”
“The same old grind, Little Girl. And you?”
“Do you know anything about @Quinn Meadows
, the dead boy buried by the old well?”
“I do not. The dead do not interest me.”
“What about a certain pastrami Reuben in the vicinity?”
“I know just the place. Near 5th and Main. Little deli.”
“Mmmmm. Can’t wait. Thanks!”
“Always a pleasure Little Girl.”