Exerpt of Story

Temporary titled 'Heritage' until something better comes along:

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“I don’t believe in the supernatural.”

I have been saying this to myself for years now. When my father dragged me to places that made my skin crawl. When I saw people swallow knives and live animals, dance on burning charcoal, eyes turning, I still kept the mantra, “I don’t believe in the supernatural.” Even when I was told that my destiny was to be a “Mambo”, a voodoo priestess, I scoffed and kept thinking: This old people talking, backward people, I am a well educated, catholic girl, I don’t believe I that crap. At the age of 28, up until three days ago, I still kept my mantra, I still thought, that all the hocus pocus of the voodoo religion was just tales. Up until three days ago, I didn’t believe in another world other than our own. There was no Lwa, no Loup-garou, no Veven, and no talking ghost and there was certainly no supernatural creature. My dreams were no premonitions, no doorway to another world. I could see people before their death. Up until three days ago, my sweet god-mother was still alive. Up until three days ago …I was sane….or was I ever…