Freaky Friday Teaser

I needed to be alone after hearing all that I had, so I grabbed my coat and took off outside. Eric didn’t try to stop me because he knew what I needed without me having to even say so.

So wrapped in my coat and with knit cap down over my ears, I wandered out into the cool, icy streets of Paris alone. I hadn’t decided where I was headed just yet, but as I bypassed some of the most iconic and beautiful scenes and buildings I’d ever known I found myself in a place that drew me; I was in the cemetery.

In specific, I found that I had come to stop near the Père Lachaise Cemetery, the world famous burial ground of the ill-fated and well-loved Oscar Wilde.

It didn’t take very long to find his tomb, deeply entrenched within the grounds, his remains marked by an angel of beauty and sweet sorrow, reflecting the peace that he had never been allowed in life. The lower parts of the monument were covered in flowers, letters and the most kiss marks I’d ever seen – all tributes to the optimistic and modernist writer of old. Both straight, homosexual and those that just weren’t sure came to see this tomb, asking for advice, giving thanks and praying.

I had never been here before, but had always wanted to come. I’d planned to buy a special tube of red lipstick for the occasion, paint my mouth and kiss the monument and silently pray for deliverance from worry because if anyone ever knew how to see light in the dark, it was Oscar Wilde.

I bent down to kneel beside the tomb and shuffled through my pockets to find the only lipgloss i had on me – a clear balm. No one would ever see my kiss.

I applied the gel and rubbed my lips, the cooling feel a little soothing, then I pressed my lips to the cold stone right below the epitaph engraved into the tomb.

I felt instantly calm, as if I was no longer alone in the cemetery and when dusk began to descend upon the area I traced the epitaph with my fingers.

“And alien tears will fill for him,” It read. “Pity's long-broken urn, For his mourners will be outcast men, And outcasts always mourn.”

I thought about how much Oscar Wilde had influenced the people of today, and my life as well, his philosophies and optimism in the face of fear and defeat were phenomenal, encouraging of those who couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. I thought about what he would say if I could meet him, what he would do to negate the impending danger and mysteria heading towards me and the other members of the Department back home.

Oscar Wilde would never let the fates keep him down.

“How would you presume to know what it is that I would and would not do?”

When I think back on this moment I think perhaps I should have expected something to happen when it did when taking into account that I was a) already a proven mediator to spirits, b) in a cemetery at dark, no matter how famous or popular, and c) I had come seeking some form of guidance. Here it was.