> I was the biggest coward in the village, yet I became a disciple of the Black Spirit Medium.
> My first séance was at my grandaunt’s husband’s funeral, when the coffin lid suddenly blew off.
> The old man, dead for seven days, sat bolt upright, his rotting eye sockets fixed on me.
> My body moved on its own. I leaped onto the offering table, pointed at the crowd, and began singing a spirit chant.
> “The scar on the back of his head, made by a hammer... The killer is right here!”
> As the crowd erupted, I saw the real murderer discreetly touch the back of his head.
> The old spirit possessing me suddenly sneered. “Kid, the coroner didn’t find the bruises on your second uncle’s wrist.”
Hard to comment 🤦 [OK]