This is part of a fairly newly written short story.
On Monday morning you awake to find Germaine Greer sitting on the end of your bed. This bothers you, because as far as you are aware, Germaine Greer isn’t dead, and according to everything you know (which clearly isn’t enough) about visions appearing at the end of your bed, generally they’re supposed to be dead.
“Are you dead?”
You grimace at the ceiling, close-lipped. This was probably not a wise thing to ask Germaine Greer (especially on a Monday morning).
“Do I look dead to you, sweetheart?”
You knew it. She’s seething. How terrifying.
“No. Sorry. It’s just that you’re at the end of my bed, and well… why?”
Germaine looks around her and frowns. Clearly she has no idea why she’s sitting at the end of your bed either, and clearly, it bothers her. She turns back to you, to admonish no doubt, and that’s when you remember the essay – the one that’s due and almost complete. The reason why your alarm is set for 5.00am. You look at the clock. It’s 4.44am. Germaine lifts her eyebrows, suddenly amused.
“Your third argument is flawed. You’ll see why when you re-read it.”
You look back to the end of the bed in amazement to find that Germaine is gone and you jump up and grab your essay, flipping through the pages until you find your flawed third argument.
On Tuesday morning you awake to find Albert Namatjira sitting on the end of your bed. He’s a big man and the mattress slopes down to meet him. You get a fright when you feel yourself sliding down and open your eyes to see the moonlight hitting the darkness of his cheek and lighting up his eyes. You’re pretty sure that Albert Namatjira is dead, but after yesterday morning you’re too afraid to ask. He smiles at you. His teeth glow white as his smile deepens.
“You lost sister?”