When Janu Saw An Apparition

Sometimes superstition mates with scare in the wilderness of the subconscious mind – some apparition will be the offspring. Janu made just a shriek in the darkness. Like a fried sardine, her body lies on a mat within a human hedge –her soul has fled somewhere. Women stand with arms akimbo; men whisper words in diverse shades of superstition. Holy chants and devilish mantras unite in the horrible air. An iron key – a black cord wet with spit – a rural enchanter applies outworn weapons in vain. Finally, a sensible man sprinkles water on her visage – soul returns to her body after a blackout. [First published in Nous Magazine, UK ]