Spring's blossoming forsythia against periwinkle skies were at odds with a withering post-pandemic economy, widespread dissatisfaction with provincial politics, and a labour situation plundered by quiet quitting. After an abysmal start to the second quarter -inflation with a looming recession -the Canadian Premier of Ontario worried. As black overtook the periwinkle sky, he remained in his office in habitus of random responses to constituent voicemails. In between calls, he heard a rustle. He thought nothing of it, probably the prayer plant on the bookshelf, making its nightly fracas as it closed its leaves in devotion when the world dims. For a second, he thought he saw a figure, platinum-haired in a flowing white frock, out of the corner of his eye."I must be exhausted," he rationalized, rubbing his eyes and dialing several more constituents before calling it a night. *** At first, Dwayne Testani assumed it was a practical joke. But then again, why wouldn't the Premier call him for help? After all, everyone knew that Ontario's Legislative building in Toronto, a terminating pink vista at the end of University Avenue, was the most haunted in the city. If true, this gig could be a career-maker, maybe even the pathway for Dwayne to finally abandon his unfulfilling day job as an unlicensed financial advisor.
***As instructed, Dwayne arrived at the Pink Palace loaded down with paranormal investigation equipment at ten o'clock that night. At the back entrance where artificial light struggled with shadow, one of building's gargoyles winked at him. He rapped three times.