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Hey,Should I do a part 2 for this?Picture of Picasso,gives a vague idea of how the ghost looks.
#WritcoStoryPrompt5
The diamond necklace on the mannequin looked familiar. She placed her palm on the window that separated them and leaned in closer...
It sparkled,it's faces gleaming in the dusty half-light of the thrift store.The cashier was in his seat by the desk,his weathered face framed by a silvery entangle of hair that was netted with cobwebs.He hadn't noticed her.He wasn't at fault,really.Mika,her hand pressed again the window,knew that.She was a ghost,literally and metaphorically.She had died from drowning and her body had churned her soul out,her soul being a blue plume of smoke that formed the faint outline of the 12 year old she had once been.Looking at the window,she realised someone must have sold off her necklace.Her beautiful,one -of -a -kind necklace was now collecting dust in a corner of Singapore.She wished she could touch it,but she knew she couldn't.She couldn't touch anything or be seen by humans as a ghost.She tore her moist eyes away,tears streaming down her blue face.Without a morsel of belief,she looked back at the window.She had no hope,but yet she pushed her hand against the window,willing it not to miraculously pass through.She pushed and pushed,wanting to feel the coldness of glass.
But she felt nothing but air.
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The diamond necklace on the mannequin looked familiar. She placed her palm on the window that separated them and leaned in closer...
It sparkled,it's faces gleaming in the dusty half-light of the thrift store.The cashier was in his seat by the desk,his weathered face framed by a silvery entangle of hair that was netted with cobwebs.He hadn't noticed her.He wasn't at fault,really.Mika,her hand pressed again the window,knew that.She was a ghost,literally and metaphorically.She had died from drowning and her body had churned her soul out,her soul being a blue plume of smoke that formed the faint outline of the 12 year old she had once been.Looking at the window,she realised someone must have sold off her necklace.Her beautiful,one -of -a -kind necklace was now collecting dust in a corner of Singapore.She wished she could touch it,but she knew she couldn't.She couldn't touch anything or be seen by humans as a ghost.She tore her moist eyes away,tears streaming down her blue face.Without a morsel of belief,she looked back at the window.She had no hope,but yet she pushed her hand against the window,willing it not to miraculously pass through.She pushed and pushed,wanting to feel the coldness of glass.
But she felt nothing but air.
© All Rights Reserved
