The Truth About Poltergeists

It’s no picnic being a creature of pure celestial intent. I followed Phil, my charge, into the living room and stood on the cat’s tail. The animal jumped and yowled. I flailed and my wing bumped a vase, knocking it over. More flailing and I bumped a lamp too. “Bollocks.”

Phil lunged and steadied the lamp. He looked at the shattered vase and frowned. “Mary? I’m telling you there’s something here.”

“Not this again. Oh!” A woman walked into the room and paused when she saw the remains of the vase. Her hands went to her mouth.

“Sorry,” I said. They didn’t hear me. “It’s these wings. You know, they don’t even work. Just part of the uniform.”

“What happened?”

“The vase just fell. This place is haunted. We need an exorcist.”

“Now, wait just a moment,” I said, taking a step and bumping the lamp again.

“Phil, we can’t afford that.”

“Something’s got to be done. Whatever’s here, I want it gone.”

“Hey,” I cried. “Look, I’m sorry about the vase, and the lamp, and the cat, and your TV last week. But I did save you from that car on the crossing. Remember that? No? Well, I guess you wouldn’t what with you not being hit, and all. Don’t wish me gone, please.”

“I mean it, Mary. I want this thing out of my life.”

Poof.

I spat out a mouthful of cloud and got to my feet, straightening my robe and these infernal wings.

Zadkiel walked past with a snort. “Really, Azriphel? Again?”

Challenge: Exactly 256 words, no adverbs.


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