LeggingsRoyalescam025d@60+com

I felt the winter seep through my bones as I lay on the bed reading, "Daughter of Smoke & Bone" which is throughly recommendable. Half way through I couldn't stand the drop in temperature and knew that something evil was in the building. There was a babble of excited Yacking from the Mindreaders who come in on my frequency at times.

They use the Demonic levels. I can't help except hear. They link. I have no choice. I don't link unless I chose to stay or talk to someone. We are different. I got up and made coffee and ate biscuits, to try and raise my internal levels of support.

Later I picked up the packed parcels and headed out to the Post Office. In another place nearby a meeting was packing up, and a sense of happiness, mischeif and rumour was heady in the air. Apparently Loti had attended, with a plan to disprove something... without the knowledge or consent of the unfortunate person who they were putting to the trial. He left an aroma, a misery behind, a relative of another that I'd met years before.

Outside the village gossips were breaking news: as I passed by the houses.
"She never knew did she?"
"We've got her now..."
"Not her fault, they never told her that the Doctor was doing a telepathic test to disprove what she has said..."
"And with the amount of stuff the mindreaders put her through she'd never have discerned it."
....................................................................................

I felt the anger suffuse my whole body. Sometimes you could about kill. Only I was me, and I don't.

"His will said she was telepathic."
"Yeah, it wasn't a fair test."
"Well we' ve got it now..."
"He said she had to look after us."

No, he said I should look after telepathics, not give people money or land, not give to psychics or mindreaders, who he couldn't stand since he had such a bad time with in Ireland. He had trouble getting away.
.......................................................................

I walked up to the Post Office thinking hard. I felt anger, twist as sharp as corkscrew. If I was named in a will, if it was my Grandfathers, why hadn't I had a copy. And since I'd passed on my rights to the Q, then why was I still being bothered by tormenters?

And does this answer who was taking my post?

.............................................................................................................................

And there is also a rumour that the will has already been taken. By a Goe-Goe belle who said she was someone else, in order to do it., and by a man who said he was slightly royal. Some evils are Flint rather than Stone.
................................................................................................................................