It was sometime after dinner. Or before. I can’t really remember, but here’s what I do remember, and this is what happened:
I was sitting on the floor with my sister. The floor was covered in green carpet - green like moss, green - and I was sitting on that. Sitting with my legs crossed. Sitting upstairs in a room next to the attic. A room with a television, two windows, and a couch. Between my sister and me was a large, hardback edition of the Merriam-Webster Dictionary - its cover made of red fabric, its title embossed in gold. Also between my sister and me was a Ouija board from the attic, from the 1950s, from our mother’s youth. In the middle of the clear plastic viewfinder - the one that supposedly moves around the board to answer questions from beyond - was a nail. A tiny metal nail. Right through the center. I don’t know why.
We asked it a question to test it. To make sure it was working. We asked it to tell us which word we would flip to in the dictionary. It spelled a word. I don’t remember the word. We flipped open the dictionary, and the word was there. Right at the top of the page.Read More