It’s Weekend Writing Warriors time again. This is my submission. This story started out with a visual prompt and I called it Ghost. As happens, from time to time, the story took on a life and mind of its own and this is where it went.
#8sunday August 02 , 2015 Birdie
After the introduction of our main character, we discover that she is a haunt, who has been trapped in her childhood home, consuming fragments of her broken, discarded dreams as her only sustenance.
The read the preceding text click here. The story continues with the following 8 sentences:
When the wrecking crew arrived I cowered on the pavement, hiding behind the pink oleander my mother had planted just before my birth. I will forever taste dust and destruction when I smell that sweet perfume.
When all was done and the last debris carted off in cheerfully yellow trucks, I trudged the kilometer or so to the village. Even now it amuses me to remember how I started at every sound, and how I crossed the street to avoid fellow pedestrians.
That night I slept on a bench at the central bus depot. I chose the least lit and most isolated spot I could find.
I woke to Mr Stanislov sweeping under me, his thick wooden broom chiming against the bench’s metal legs, and his tuneless whistle quavering in the cool morning air. A large, scruffy marmalade-striped cat was weaving around his legs murmuring and purring in counterpoint to his breathy serenade.
© Kim Magennis 2015
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