(We celebrated Indigenous Heritage Month with the myths of our First People. Due to the enthusiastic response from our readers, we have decided to start a fiction page that will focus on all aspects of Guyanese folklore. This is a final excerpt from the supernatural novel, Kamarang, by Michael Jordan, to be published next year)By Michael JordanMichael awoke from deep sleep, blinking from the sudden glare of the bedroom bulb. At first he thought that it was near dawn,Cheap NFL Jerseys, and he stifled a groan at the thought of having to go to work. But yet he sensed that something wasn’t quite right. For one thing, his mosquito net wasn’t down, he seemed to be lying crossway on his bed, and what was his light doing on,Cheap Jerseys 2018, anyway?He propped himself up in bed. Now he heard music outside his bedroom. It was an instrumental version of My Favourite Things. And that too was strange because that was the theme song for the programme Music to Remember, and Music to Remember came over at—He stretched towards the ledge by his bed for his watch. He squinted at the time in disbelief. Nine o’clock? Nine P.M? What—And now some of his fuzziness cleared and he remembered.It was nine P.M. He’d already worked for the day. But he had come home early because he’d felt so awfully tired… Now bits of the day came back to him. He had awoken this morning with the drained feeling that had bothered him last week; dragged up from deep sleep by his mother’s insistent rapping at his door. He had gone through the rest of the day in a fog of exhaustion. Had left work around three,Wholesale Jerseys 2020, caught a car home, bolted down his dinner, and tumbled into bed without bothering to change.And had apparently slept for six whole hours.Michael yawned, then smiled as he thought of his bitter sweet meeting with Lucille. It all seemed so unreal, as if it had happened to someone else. Had they really talked about a dead boy named Leon? Had she really wept on his shoulder? Made love to him in her lamp-lit room? He touched his chest, his fingers lingering over a spot where she had bitten him deep.Now he realised that he was ravenous, too.? He went downstairs to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. He made four salami and cheese sandwiches, mixed a cup of Ovaltine, and was heading back to the bedroom when something on the kitchen table caught his attention. It was a copy of the Citizen. The large black headline at the top seemed to jump out at him.SKELETONS OF MISSING WOMEN FOUND AT KAMARANGHe stared at the paper for a moment, then picked it up and returned to his room. He sat on the bed, reading as he ate. He read the story twice. His tiredness was gone. The story had a dreamy,Cheap NFL Jerseys China, sinister ring, an element of something vaguely familiar.He thought of Lucille, sitting on her bed, eyes filled with tears.I would never hurt you, Michael…And despite his dread, he now felt a yearning to see her; whatever, whoever she might be. He’d seen her just the night before, but now he missed her awfully. The light was off in his parents’ room. So was the radio. He could hear his father’s soft, intermittent snores.Just for an hour… He threw himself on the bed in frustration. He couldn’t let this thing control him. He—He caught a whiff of her scent on his pillow. He had brought this smell home with him last night on his fingers,Wholesale China NFL Jerseys, on his clothes. He pressed his face to the pillow, inhaling the faint, tantalizing bit of Lucille that had invaded his parents’ house, and was now calling him into the night…*TONIGHT, THOUGH, AS HE STEPPED into the doorway, he was gripped by the feeling that something was different. It was so intense that he paused at the foot of the stairs, trying to figure out what was wrong.Usually, he would hear the tinkling of glass, and the women’s shrill laughter from the stairs. Tonight, though, there was just a strange tension, and something in his heart told him he had made a mistake in coming.Some of the stragglers glanced up as he entered the hallway, then looked away. He sensed an unfriendliness in their stares, and that, too, was different. Desmond the barman was passing a bowl of ice to the prostitute called Marilyn.? He glanced up at Michael. For a moment he just stood there, holding the bowl and staring at Michael, with a pasted-on smile on his face. Then he passed the bowl to the prostitute.She had been babbling away at the barman, but as she collected the bowl, she turned and saw Michael. He saw her eyes widen. The bowl shook in her hands and a chunk of ice fell and went skidding across the floor. She averted her eyes, then hurried over to a table near