Below is Part 8 of 18 monthly installments for Visitant.
The opening of the office door was announced by a smell of woodsmoke and tobacco mixed with weird herbs of exotic origin. The tendrils crept like fingers around the portal and into the sitting room. Beverly stared open-mouthed at Delilah in disbelief at just how smoky it had become.
Her friend coughed. The smoke wrote words on the wall in a language Beverly had only seen a few times before. What could they be doing in there? She wished Delilah had not run out of cough syrup.
Whatever cold Delilah currently suffered had spread to Beverly, so that now she sniffled and barked like a seal, as bad as a fishwife. When the two women arrived, Delilah had kindly offered the last of the cough syrup…
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