Scrying with Hot Wax

Willoughby Bedford Journal investigating folklore and superstitions

I took a few weeks off, and before heading back home I stopped at the Lancashire seaside town, Morecambe. Do you know their Winter Gardens Theatre, apparently it is haunted.

I walked for miles along the very clean and flat promenade even caught the sun on my face, but not where I’d been wearing my sun glasses. That evening it felt odd when complete strangers broke into uncontrollable belly laughs on first meeting me, they can’t look me in the face! Not quite panda eyes, but you get the implication.

Anyway, I did a spot of scrying with a local psychic group kind enough to welcome me.

Roger and Marge showed me what to do. Apparently with some candle tea lights, left to burn and turned to liquid wax, a stack of white paper plates bought for the occasion by the ever resourceful Hyacinth, we lined up to splat wax on the plates.

Marge showed us what to do, taking the tea light and quickly turning it over so that the wax plopped onto the plate forming a random pattern. No order to it, no, straight over to trust the powers that be to show a message within the solidified form.

We were to pair up and read our plates and see what we made of the wax shapes. Then, give a reading and hopefully receive positive feedback from an ability to see messages within the mess.

However, Brendan quite an excitable lad by the look of him, went for his tea light eyed previously and hoping no one would take it which was the case. He made a lunge for it. Caught unaware of how hot it was to the touch.

Brendan yelped, flinging hot liquid wax not on a plate but on Marge’s dress, the newly painted wall, picture frame, polished table, carpet even catching Hyacinth’s spaniel’s fluffy ears.

I couldn’t resist and said the shape on the wall looks like a right mess! Nobody was laughing at my face.

by Willoughby Bedford/John Riley

The Ghostly World Fictional Ghost Stories

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