“August, how old were you when you died, again?”
“Twenty-six.” He straightened up and tugged on his lapels.
“I forget sometimes that you were still immature when you died.”
“I’m not immature.”
“You are. But it’s ok, I just forget that on top of having died young and lacking a lifetime’s experience, you’re also a newbie ghost. Your card today reminded me.” I showed it to him, “The Daughter of Wands.”
“Does that correspond to the page?”
“Yes, I think so. Pages are young and still learning about life, but wands are fiery and full of spirit. I think this card is a reminder to both of us to keep in mind that you are creative and passionate in your quest to understand your new life, but that you lack the wisdom and experience an elderly decedent would have.”
“I’ve decided something, just now.”
“Ok?”
“I want the Magician’s psychic to contact Evelyn for me.” He flickered and half grinned.
“Ok.” I shrugged, suddenly gripped by sadness. I cleared my throat, “I’ll call him.” August was gone though, and a cold breeze settled on my shoulders.