Newly Risen Jordhana Rempel Jordhana Rempel is from Alberta, Canada and has been interested in writing and fiction from a very young age. She earned her BA in English before traveling to London for her MA in Creative Writing. “I didn't think it would look like that,” she said, a little uncertain. “It's the mummification process,” the deliveryman explained. “The skin darkens from dehydration. Nothing out of the ordinary.” “Right,” she said. The deliveryman finished unpacking the supplies and handed her a clipboard. “Just need you to sign this.” She did, leaving a long, sweeping ‘Mrs van—’ that ended in an indecipherable scrawl. The deliveryman bowed unnecessarily and left. The thing was left standing in the doorway. Tilda wasn't sure what to call it. It was certainly male, so she supposed she could call it 'he,' but it wasn't a person, was it? And she couldn't call it ‘it’ either. She wished such things had been around when she was a girl so they could be covered in her etiquette classes. For lack of any other ideas, she fell back on her training. “Hello,” she said brightly. “Welcome to my home. Make yourself comfortable. The parlour's this way.” The thing turned towards her when she started speaking, but made no other movement. It simply stood there, the same mahogany colour as the coat track beside it, and nearly as tall. “Follow me,” she said. The deliveryman had said something about direct orders for the first few weeks, until it got used to a routine. The thing took a step forward. The manufacturers had fitted it with loose linen trousers and a long linen shirt, but no shoes. Its bony feet clicked against the hardwood as it followed her. It was a bit disconcerting; she wasn't sure how it could even see. She had seen the old-fashioned ones at the British Museum, and thought that they looked quite rough and unpleasant. But these new ones were more elegant, retaining their facial structure and teeth. The manufacturers had managed to prevent the lips pulling back in a grimace, but not the loss of—she shuddered—the soft ocular tissue, hence the necessity of the closed eyes. It stopped just inside the door to the parlour. She gestured towards one of the armchairs. “Sit,” she said, adding, “please.”
9
