Cinzia was about to go to bed when "he" appeared. As usual, she was sad and depressed. She was tired of those perceptions, tired of those messages to deliver, tired of being involved in those situations that inexorably distracted her from the "normal" life she was pursuing.
Cinzia contemplated that apparition for a moment, fighting back her panic. She let out a brief laugh, or rather, a grin, as she thought about what her medium friend or her crazy friend Marco was saying. She didn't care if it was a "gift"... She didn't want any gift, damn it!
And then THAT APPARITION...that was too much even for her "standards."
Before her, in the privacy of her room, lay a corpse in an advanced state of decomposition, completely bald, with both face and body horribly deformed, rotten.
Cinzia remained silent. Sometimes the apparitions would go away on their own, but not that one... he didn't speak, but he didn't go away. Cinzia decided to sit down and look at the ground, observing him only with quick glances, never meeting her eyes—what remained of a gaze... if one could even speak of a gaze in two obscenely eyeless cavities.
That body seemed spatially limited, as if it were contained within a room, a machine... perhaps simply a tomb? Cinzia couldn't quite figure it out, but there was one detail that stood out: the left arm... the only still "healthy" part of that deformed body: a syringe stuck in it was clearly visible.
Cinzia felt a shameful, throbbing satisfaction when she realized that detail... and immediately afterward she clearly heard a voice... a name, a surname.
The apparition finally disappeared, and Cinzia resigned herself to contacting the person she'd called, even though she'd promised herself she'd never do it again.
Cinzia glossed over her husband's request for information; this time she just couldn't reveal the details of the vision that had manifested itself, disturbing her family with the usual poltergeist phenomena...and besides, this time she didn't understand either...who knows who he was...and who knows why the hell he'd unequivocally pronounced that crazy guy Marco's name.
Yeah...Marco...him again, and more trouble...what a drag!
The next morning, Cinzia thought about the apparition, opened Messenger, and unlocked the crazy guy's account...a sigh...then she resigned herself to texting and answering questions she didn't understand...what a drag...what a drag!
The only good thing was that that obscene thing only needed two appearances... still too many... she was tired... tired of everything... even of that crazy guy she'd fallen in love with as a young girl... just imagine... a teenage crush during the summer... and... fucked for the next 40 years!
