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(ok, my computer is retarded thank you to the computer of a friend i have fixed the parts edited from the retardedness of my computer, the added parts are what this is all about) Part 2:
From American Gods by Neil Gaiman
Please read the previous enty (Part 1) first. Yes they are a little long, but please take the time, if you can spare it. It does have this little closeness that i have felt. Shadow woke with his heart jack hammering in his chest, his forehead clammy, entirely awake. The red numerals on the bedside clock told him the time was 1:03 A.M. The light on the motel sign outside shone through his bedroom window. Disoriented, Shadow got up and walked into the tiny motel bathroom. He ed without turning on the lights, and returned to the bedroom. The dream was still fresh and vivid in his mind�s eye, but he could not explain to himself why it had scared him so.
The light that came into the room from outside was not bright, but Shadow�s eyes had become used to the dark. There was a woman sitting on the side of his bed.
He knew her. He would have known her in a crowd of a thousand, or of a hundred thousand. She was still wearing the navy blue suit they had buried her in.
Her voice was a whisper, but a familiar one. �I guess,� said Laura, �you�re going to ask what I�m doing here.�
Shadow said nothing.
He sat down on the rooms only chair and, finally asked, �Is that you?�
�Yes,� she said. �I�m cold, puppy.�
�You�re dead, babe.�
�Yes,� she said. �Yes. I am.� She patted the bed next to her. �Come and sit by me.�
�No,� said Shadow. �I think I�ll stay right here for now. We still have some unresolved issues to address.� �I didn�t need to hear that.�
�No? Sorry. It is harder to pick and choose when you�re dead. It�s like a photograph, you know. It doesn�t matter as much.�
�It matters to me.�
Laura lit another cigarette. Her movements were fluid and competent, not stiff. Shadow wondered for a moment, if she was even real at all. Perhaps this was some kind of elaborate trick. �Yes,� she said. �I see that. Well, we carried on our affair- although we didn�t call it that, we didn�t call it anything- for most of the last two years.�
�Where you going to leave me for him?�
�Why would I do that? You�re my big bear. You�re my puppy. You did what you did for me. I waited three years for you to come back to me. I love you.�
He stopped himself from sayingI love you, too. He wasn�t going to say that. Not anymore. �What are you doing here, Laura?�
�Can�t a wife come and see her husband?�
�You�re dead. I went to your funeral this afternoon.�
�Yes,� she stopped talking, stared into nothing. Shadow stood up and walked over to her. He took the smoldering cigarette butt from her fingers and threw it out of the window.
�Normally people stay in their graves,� said Shadow.
�Do they? Do they really, puppy? I used to think they did too. Now I�m not so sure. Perhaps.� She climbed off the bed and walked over to the window. Her face, in the light of the motel sign, was as beautiful as it had ever been. The face of the woman he had gone to prison for.�
His heart hurt in his chest as if someone had taken it in a fist and squeezed.
She turned and looked at him with eyes that seemed both to see and not to see him. �I think there are several aspects of our marriage we�re going to have to work on.�
�Babe,� he told her. �Your dead.�
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