‘What are we?’ she screamed at Brother Antony who watched her, his eyes full of compassion. ‘Beatrice, you are an Incorporeal. I have told you. You are not of their world but of another.’ ‘But I can speak, I can see, I can hear, I have my body!’ ‘Yes, you have,’ he said kindly. ‘But they have all changed.’ ‘That’s not possible.’ ‘Yes it is, Beatrice. Even in the world you have left, one substance can take many forms. Water can turn to ice, it can be still or fast-running; it can be small, it can be large, it can be salt-filled, it can be clear. It rises and it comes down. So it is with you. Your body has not been taken away, it has simply changed, as your consciousness has.’ Beatrice gazed around. The strange coppery tint had grown in strength. She was becoming accustomed to her new world. She even knew how to rest, to withdraw into a warm darkness, shutting off her consciousness, asleep but not asleep. Nevertheless, she was growing frantic. This existence was like watching a mummer’s play or studying the tale told on some tapestry.
What do You think about HAUNT OF MURDER, A (2011)?
