khi_word

Alright, so I was in the middle of reading The Marriage Stone by Josephine Darcy, which is apparently an unfinished Harry/Severus fic.  I was just getting to the point where they're talking about Dementors emerging from a newly-opened well on New Years Eve in the Winter Lands.  It's vaguely spooky, because, well, Dementors.

And then I hear something.  It takes a moment for it to register, because I have an air conditioner running in the third room, and a fan blowing at me in this one (the first room).  But then I place it.

It's my (dead) grandmother's music box.

It played for about five seconds and then stopped.  In the meantime, I sat here staring like an imbecile into the darkness of the second room (where the music box is) from my place on the bed.  I'm fairly certain that my mouth was open.  I was too shocked to be terrified.

A minute or two later, I ran downstairs, because vague fear had settled in and that sort of thing is always made better by the everyday sight of one's mother with her entire arm in a fish tank.

When I told her what had happened, she jokingly said something alone the lines of, "I guess grandma came to visit, huh?"  And even though it was a joke, I still went back upstairs and foolishly said to my empty room, "Sorry, that was kind of silly.  Grandma, was that you?  I mean, I'm open to the possibility."

Because, well, I am.  It would be silly not to be (almost as silly as running away from a music box and subsequently talking to an empty room).  I don't believe in an afterlife, and I certainly do not believe in souls.  I believe in neurons and synapses and consciousness and the lack thereof once the body dies.  But still--keep your mind wide open and all that.

Anyway.  That was my spooky moment of the year, I suppose.  (And no, I didn't get an answer.  Methinks my grandmother is quite dead and gone.)