V is for Voyage

 ‘Okay,’ I continued, ‘so we’ve got a plan. Now how do we find death.’
‘You don’t.’ Wisp replied.
Both Jonathan and I looked to Wisp in astonishment. Wisp couldn’t remember their past life and wasn’t exactly knowledgeable on the afterlife either. Wisp looked back without embarrassment; an almost naive surprise was present instead. It was as though Wisp saw no reason why we would be surprised.
‘What do you mean ‘you don’t’?’ I asked.
‘Death finds you. That’s Death’s job. Oh, and ‘Death’ is not the right name either.’
‘How do you know all this?’
‘I used to know another spirit who knew the one you call Death.’
Jonathan and I both looked at Wisp expectedly; waiting to be told the rest but Wisp just stared benignly. The green velveteen beneath me began to scratch against me. Itching was such a weird phenomenon. I hadn’t felt anything since I had died. It felt as though sparkles of static electricity were climbing and falling all over me. I felt the ghost of my hands twitch as the overwhelming need to scratch overcame me. That’s when something strange happened to me; another sensation joined the itch, a rubbing sensation. It wasn’t overly useful for satisfying the itch but it was better than doing nothing. I had to look to realise what had happened. One of the radiating spikes which seemed to make up my body, a body which was now solid, had curled around and rubbed the source of the itch. As it was the area that I was sitting on I guess you could call it the beyond the grave version of scratching your arse but it felt great. I stopped scratching, my itch more forgotten than satisfied, while I flexed and released the shard which I now thought of as a tentacle. It curled in and out, rusty at first but more graceful the more I did it. I looked at another tentacle and concentrated; it didn’t move but one nearby did. Clearly I would have to get the hang of my new body; my solid form. With a little practice I felt I might be physically ready for a great voyage. But where to go?