Page 4 of Defined and Defiled (Ghostlight Falls)

Accident (n.)

ac·ci·dent : an unfortunate event resulting especially from carelessness or ignorance

It says a lot about the Ghostlight Falls paramedics that 'I crashed my car because my dictionary started talking to me' only gets me a warning and a referral to the mechanics.

It also says a lot about my car that it's almost impossible to tell the new scratches from the old.

The tree I crashed into got the worst of it.

My mental to-do list grows as I add 'visit the Mechanics' and 'donate to a tree planting foundation' to the bottom of the list.

At this point I need to send Eli a Christmas card.

I've seen him more than my family this year.

Maybe I should also ask him how long I can keep going with the 'check engine' light on.

“Are you okay?”

I whisper to the book that is now face down on my car floor.

A muffled reply comes from the cover. I steel myself before flipping it over. Yep, there is still a floating head in my dictionary.

“Can you repeat that?”

“I said, do you have a personal vendetta against me or is this more of an Urkel situation?”

He flutters his torn page at me. It's quite cute, even though his stern expression tells me it shouldn't be.

“Did I do that?”

I try but he remains unamused.

“To be fair, I didn't know you were alive.”

The floating head rolls his eyes. There is a symbol written in black marker above his face. I have to bite back a grin. It's the same 'cool S' I probably doodled a million times back when I was in school.

I probably need to add, ‘look up the signs of a concussion' to my to-do list.

“Not understanding something's mortality is no excuse for being reckless with it. You ripped my page!”

While that is a very valid point, I do not appreciate being reminded of it.

“I'll try not to be so startled next time I discover an object is sentient.”

“That's all I'm asking for.”

I buckle him into the passenger seat before adjusting my rear view mirror. I wonder if there is an appropriate time to ask someone why they are a talking book. Is that something you can just bring up, or is sort of a touchy subject?

“I feel like I should probably also apologize for taking you from the school. I didn't realize that would count as kidnapping when I stole you.”

He ruffles his pages at me.

“Not much of a conversationalist, I see. You'd think a literal dictionary would be better with his words.”

I glance at him. He's quite handsome for a book. I've seen quite a few hulking shirtless men and bodice-busting women on some of my favorite reads, so he's up against some stiff competition.

“Eyes forward. Ten and two.”

He shouts, if he had any hands I’m sure they would be gripping the ‘oh shit’ handle.

Now it's my time to roll my eyes back.

“ ‘Nine and three’ and I'm not going to crash us!”

“Again.”

“Yes. I will not crash us. Again. And it's not my fault that the building jumped out at me.”

“You know buildings don't typically do that.”

“They do here.”

I moved to town a couple years ago from Nevada to be closer to my ex-girlfriend. She grew up here and massively undersold the vast weirdness of this place. Much like a fungus, Ghostlight Falls grows on you. Eventually you stop questioning moving buildings and specter secretaries. There's no other place where I could teach a griffon shifter to read, or grab my morning bagel from a suspiciously green baker. This place is special.

Twyla and I have since ended things , but we still share our small rental. Heartbreak's not a good enough reason to not get your security deposit back.

“And where exactly is here?”

“Ghostlight Falls?”

I had assumed that since strange things tend to appear here that they were here for a reason. It's odd to consider that this book might not know anything about how he got here.

“I found you in the basement of our school here. I should probably ask, do you have a place to go after this? I mean, I was going to bring you back to the basement, but that won't be until tomorrow.”

“I would appreciate never setting foot in that basement again.”

“Do you have feet?”

It is a very reasonable question, I'd think, but the dictionary doesn't seem to agree as he huffs back at me.

“A tome of many words,”

I mumble. I want to turn my audiobook back on, but it does not seem polite now that there's a passenger in the car. It's a shame, too, because this is my favorite part. There's an uncomfortable silence between us as I drive the rest of the way home. I wonder what state my place will be in when I get home. Shit, I forgot about Melon.

“How do you do with dogs?”