How would Elijah ever understand a life that is dark more than light? Or a shadow of someone who follows her around, and when she least expects it, taps her on the back and asks, where are you going, Seraphina?
I slept badly that night, my vivid dreams populated by ghosts. As much as it revived ailing spirits in day light, the fizzy energy of NY seemed to feed on human frailty at night.
Do not fear the ghosts in this house; they
are the least of your worries.
Personally I find the noises they make reassuring,
The creaks and footsteps in the night,
their little tricks of hiding things,
or moving them, I find
endearing, not upsettling. It makes the place
feel so much more like a home.
I bolted upright in my bed, gasping for air and still feeling his touch on my hand. I could feel him watching me. I could feel him waiting for me.
The vase was placed upon my desk, and there were orange-blossoms in it-orange-blossoms, in an English winter!
…most words for ghost are pieces of mica that carefully layered
will make a window out of fire. It’s cold and the faces at the window
do what faces usually do they open onto a genetic history
that looks up suddenly and it’s the eyes everyone says you can’t say that’s not alive
Sometimes people graduate but they don’t leave. They hang around for years, for no reason. I would think of ghosts like that, I decided.
The old are often forgotten. Life moves on without a care for those who wish to remain in the past. We tend to talk too much because it’s rare that we’re listened to.
I have emotions
that are like newspapers that
I go for days at a time
trapped in the want ads.
I feel as if I am an ad
for the sale of a haunted house:
ghosts and all.
I let ya in-into my life…my death…my heart.” He reached up like he was going to touch my face. “And now I don’t know how to get ya out.