The Ghost

When I look through my bedroom window into the darkness that is the backyard, I cannot help but feel curious about what I see beyond the frigid pane. I cannot tell if it is reality or just a part of my imagination. I have a notebook, chock-full of pages that describe nights like this, of how I see a tall black being at the end of a slithering pathway near the back gate at the corner of our paint-chafed garage. I know that when we create eye contact, that we can see each other. But, I feel as if though, that when I see him, he is not an ordinary person. He feels ethereal. I guess I can say he is a silhouetted form of a ghost.

Inspired by a night of staring out my own window at my own backyard, it’s a story where the world is not always viewed with rose-colored glasses, and sometimes, those stories are the best. One of three Halloween-themed short stories I have in mind for the holiday.