The First Envelope

I didn’t really sleep well. The bed was not mine. The roof over my head was unfamiliar. Everything about it was wrong including the dreams I had. The nightmares were constant but that night they’d been almost weak in comparison. I still started awake at 4 AM.

Yoga had become a thing of my daily life. Wake up to it and go to sleep to it. It was a perfect wake me up. I enjoyed a good run, but yoga was how I coped with the day to day anxiety of my life. And right now I don’t think doing yoga 24/7 would help me with all the changes.

The sights and the sounds were all wrong. The smell too made me on edge. Though it was crisp and clean and fresh and utterly perfect everything it set my body on edge. The morning was cool and crisp as I practiced my yoga forms on the soft green grass landscaping meticulously kept up by a gardener who was tending some rose bushes. I had breakfast already and was waiting on Michaela. I needed to center myself and my morning routine hadn’t fully worked so more yoga to help with that anxiety.

At precisely 8 am I saw a figure leaning against the lamp post on the sidewalk tapping a white envelope on her hand with a smirk on her face while she watched me move from pose to pose. I grinned at Michaela, “So you just going to keep watching me or open that envelope?”

“I can do both.” she said as she ripped open the seal and glanced down at her hands. I stayed in Warrior 3 while she read the letter which really wasn’t very long. She turned the paper around and it was a news article of a man dead from stabbing. “Witness’ say that the killer said, ‘This is for hurting me, Daddy.’ But all evidence points to a man they already have in custody. He claims he wasn’t there, doesn’t even know the victim.”

I asked, “So he doesn’t know what he was doing, and the killer was saying things that shouldn’t have been possible? Sounds like a possession.”

Michaela smiled. It was a real smile. “Some kids fresh out of school would have waited for me to say what it was.”

“Isn’t it my job to figure that out?”

Michaela nodded. “That is the point. But most kids fresh out don’t think they know what they are talking about. You are just egotistical enough to think you are right all the time.”

I laughed as I came down into child pose to relax. I could feel Michaela’s eyes on me while I counted out the pose and then stood up shaking myself out and walking towards here. Her eyes never left my body. I knew precisely what people thought when they knew I did yoga, or saw me doing it. I winked at her and took the paper from her to read the article myself. “I’m not always right. But I see things differently. But this leaves us at an dead end which is why they chose the case I’m sure. He can’t remember doing it which means the ghost has left him. So I guess the first place to look is into the victim, figure out what might have happened to the ghost. I think this is the first case. But ghosts on killing sprees don’t usually stop.” I said.

Michaela nodded, “That’s what the textbooks say.”

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