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This ectoplasm took place in a bar. The bar was dimly lit by a lamp in each corner. By one of the lamp’s a man was obsessively taking photos of light. He was calming to watch and focussed in his task. Elm wished she had this sort of focus and thought about how she could use it practically.

Elm’s body undulated forward. Her stare fixed and she began to give birth. This birth Exits the body at her nose.

One nostril is blocked by her sons spirit, the other is filled with a sudden stench of piss. Elm jolts her head away from the scent and her vision is back in the dimly lit room. The man had stopped his photography and was crunching up this ungodly smell into her one free nostril.

In noticing her vision steady, the man uses his camera once more and takes a few shots of Elm and her son.

“smelling salts……Actual Victorian ones. Simply crush them up in a tissue or handkerchief and Bosch, your back in the room.”

Buca liked the man.

“smells like cat piss” Elm hissed trying to clear it from her throat.

“I know, unadulterated ammonia!…..Does the trick though if you pass out like that”

“I hadn’t actually fainted……I was having an ectoplasm, meet my son Buca.” Elm points at her other nostril.

Elms lips parted “No mummy, you had.” This was not her voice. It was soft and had a higher pitch. Elm twitched with joy. “Buca…..he spoke……Buca say that again….his first words.” Elm appeared to be talking to herself.

The man looked at Elm and laughed “Barking.” He snorted.

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