It's Still Life

At an Intersection Named After an English King and a Saint
Six Sentence Story: Part 11, I Walk With Ghosts

I’m walking home in the rain from the Six Sentence Cafe and Bistro, my face damp and the wet clinging to my legs. The dim streets are lined with starved and empty warehouses with windows dim with dust.

I hear feet thudding softly, now and then splashing, my pace quickens, and I regret not insisting that Pierre walk me home …

“Three blocks,” I tell him, “it’s not a problem.”

And in this silent night-drowned place, I see you, my Connor, standing on Oxley bridge looking into the river – you are a dark echo that lifts oxygen from the air.

I felt you stir when Scott Buckley’s I Walk With Ghosts hummed from my stereo speakers, … and then you turn and look at me with that broad lazy smile of yours.

And like warm breath on a frosty morning, you vanish … and leave me, again.

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Previous instalments of this story: Part 1: The Pull Back   Part 2: The Measure of Her    Part 2: The Gatekeeper’s Response  Part 3: The Colour of Walls   Part 4: Tectonic Shifts  Part 5: Out of the Frying Pan  Part 6: How to Break Eggs Part 7: A Moon River  Part 8: Starlight Shines on the Roof  Part 9: Before When  Part: 9.1 Flower Power Part: 10 To Trace a Curl  Part: 11 I Walk With Ghosts

To access all of the instalments on one page, please use this link.

Written for Denise’s Six Sentence Story, include the word “lift”. Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified as such in the ALT text or captioned. Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use. Imagery and poems/prose ©Misky 2006-2024.