Daily Flash Fiction Entry 04-02-2011

“I’ll get it back. By hook or by crook if I hafta… smile at me while you rip me off you bald-headed brigand,” the vendor shook his fist while he dodged the loose shingles kicked down from my efforts to scale the roof before I could be spotted. “I know your face. There’s nowhere to hide, nowhere in this city.”

The old dog still howling as I crossed over the last roof before my destination; his words incomprehensible, but his bark the same.

Don’t take this wrong, I did steal from him. But, I’m not a thief; at least not by trade. I took back what he knowingly purchased from the thief who stole it from me in the first place. For all his bluster, he should’ve recognized me but didn’t. He sent those robbers to my berth.

You see, I had something he wanted but refused to sell to him; a redeemable soul.

In this city far older than time, and outside of time, there is much occult and ancient magic taking place. This land is not my home, but where I am for now.

I am here because I died.

As the eldest crone, a Shaman, explained when I woke up encircled by her followers-- I died out of synch… too early, and would go back soon.

“Where am I?”

“It’s not exactly hell,” she said with a wink, “But, it sure as hell ain’t heaven either.” Confused, I watched as she ran off cackling at her own humor, her entourage mimicking her every gesture.

I haven’t figured it out, but I do know that a soul such as mine, one that is redeemable is quite valuable here in the land of wayward souls. Still don’t know how I ended up here. All I know is I am.