Bad is a relative term, so let me rephrase. It meant me no harm at all. It had something to tell me, and showed me a picture of fire for a moment. I felt almost refreshed as I saw the flames flicker in my mind's eye. It reminded me of a thousand tiny tea lights as opposed to something that had caught fire. But it was hard at first to discern what the lights were sitting on -- they flickered and moved, and I knew for some reason that it wasn't my subconcious.
Thousands of floating candles specked the darkness of a larger body of water. The waves pushed them up ever so slightly, and sunk back down again just as slowly. Suddenly, I felt the wind on my face, warm. I felt the rocks I stood on -- smooth and strange as if I stood barefoot. The moon was huge, yellow and nearly full over the horizon. I couldn't tell where the stars ended and the reflection on the water began. Was this Lake Ontario? I still am not sure. The buzzing filled my entire skull as I inhaled sharply and snapped out of the vision.
It was a strange moment, having to think about why I was holding a kitchen towel in one hand and a glass coffee mug in the other. All I could remember was the buzzing and the image flashing and making itself more clear. A few minutes later, the buzzing had stopped and I felt that the spirit had went its own ways. I didn't get a chance to ask what that all meant. I didn't get a chance to decide anything. It kept moving, keeping to whatever errand was pressing.
This happened, and it took me a moment to reorient myself. If I close my eyes I can still see the floating candles, little pinpricks of fire. Was this a funeral? A memory this spirit carries strongly? Why me? Only because I could hear and understand? Or, was there no reason at all? I happened to have been in the right place at the right time, I suppose.