Sometimes, in the darkened depths of the night, where the suns reach is cut off and only the silver of the moon illuminates the earth, she awakens to a cold knot in her chest and a tingling in her fingertips. For a brief moment, she will lay still, silently contemplating the ceiling above her head, before she rolls from bed to dress in sweats and pull on a thick sweater.
The cold intensifies, thick tendrils spinning away from her center to thread through her limbs, making them hum with icy energy, any remaining sleep instantly sapped away. A soft smile plays across her lips. Approaching the window on bare feet, she slides open the window and steps out onto the fire escape. Toes curling around the nearly ice metal, she reaches up and starts to climb.
Pulling herself over the edge, she lands with a soft thump on the cracked tar of her buildings roof. The blustering December wind howls about her, grabbing at her loose clothing and whistling dangerously in her ears.
But the cold doesn't bother her, not with the ice currently flowing through her small form.
Padding across the wide expanse, she lets the feel of almost-winter wash over her as she regards the sparkling lights of the city. Reaching the squat shed structure that houses the internal stairs to the roof, she bunches her muscles and launches herself upward, easily pulling herself to the top of the shed.
Once there, she approaches the corner with the best view and crouches, waiting.
She doesn't perch their long.
"Hi Andy," a whispering voice calls, carried to her ears by the wind which has chosen to co-operate with her this time.
She smiles to herself before standing and spinning in one smooth move. The backs of her heels hang over the edge and she balances easily on her toes, facing the shadows clad figure on the opposite edge.
"Hey Jerry," she murmurs, the smile becoming more pronounced when some of the shadows slide away, revealing the face of the spirit who was once, and technically, still is, her friend.
The face of the dead man is serene as he stands in the moonlight clad in his bloodstained suit, but like her, he is barefoot and Andy can see the happiness glimmering in his eyes. His outline shimmers with an aura of pale silver coating his body and gives him an ethereal presence.
"How are you?" he asks, stepping forward on feet that hover just above the ground. Andy doesn't bother acknowledging the instinct to hug, knows any attempt will be futile, and simply shrugs.
The spirit cocks his head at her and frowns and Andy can feel the worry radiating from him bat heavily at her cold center. She sends her own irritation back through the link, purposely dropping her shields so Jerry will feel it. When a wry smirk twitches his lips, she retreats back to the relative safety of her own core.
"Alright then," Jerry murmurs, unwilling to anger the woman who is both his friend and a powerful medium. "How is he?" he asks, broaching the same question he has each time he visits.
Happy to move away from her own state of well being, Andy perks up slightly, despite who they are conversing about.
"Better. He's got a girl, she seems nice," she tells him softly. "Her name's Marlo," she continues, before she reins in the babble before it can swell to a tide of useless words. The words are a formality anyway; if she wanted, she could simply let Jerry see the memories she selected.
But she's smarter than that. Even though this is Jerry, he's not all that and sometimes, her dead friend lets more through from the other side than he intends. Not his fault, she doesn't blame him, but better safe than sorry for both of them. She'll keep her abilities firmly in check and have a civil conversation before the coldness dissipates.
"Good, that's good," Jerry nods to himself, a small smile of happiness gracing his features. "And Traci?"
Andy just smiles at him, telling him all he needs to know.
"Thank you," he whispers and from the sudden snup of warmth bolting at her heart, Andy knows time is up.
"See you around Jerry," she tells him, just as he fades from the mortal plane into the other.
Tucking her hands into her pockets, she turns and leaps nimbly off the small stair housing. Landing lightly, she hurries quickly to where the emergency exit is as the cold has regained its teeth now that she has fallen away from the edge of the veil. Like a cat, she clambers silently back down and into her apartment.
The last bits of ice vanish as she settles back into her bed and she closes her eyes, sleep surging from the shadows instantly to claim her.
Surprise, I'm actually still around.
Don't know what this is, where it came from or if I'm even going to continue it. It was mostly just the first small step out of my chasm of writers block.
Peace.