A/N: This
is my response to a challenge from the Cape Haven Writers Group
to
write a M/L ghost story of no more than 1,500 words.
In memory of Emily. We miss you.
Desperado
…Your prison is walking through this world all alone.
The streets were empty. The overcast sky was on the edge of dripping. The air had the sick smell of moral decay and the despair of the population.
Not much had changed.
She took another step, glancing from side to side, searching… always searching. She heard the faint splash of alley muck as she gingerly moved along, not in much of a hurry. After all, she knew what she'd find.
No change there, either.
Why bother. There was no touch, no caress, no feeling. There was no point. Words could come, but they would fail. All the words in the world couldn't say what she needed to say, wanted to say. At that moment, though, she'd trade all the words for just one in a heartbeat.
She kept moving.
The street seemed to grow longer, wider, darker. An eternal journey that she could never complete. She should keep moving, just pass it all by and continue on the journey. Keep moving. Alone.
Like usual.
The opportunity had come, hadn't it? The fates had woven their intricate tapestry and for one brief moment in time, the most beautiful piece of art had formed and just as quickly unraveled, leaving the viewers to wonder about what they had seen. Whether the moment existed in pure beauty or the moments after lay in waste.
She wondered…
She looked up. The tower rose against the dismal sky like a memorial to a world that would never be as it had been. A tiny capsule of life.
Comparatively.
She found herself outside a familiar wooden door, and wondered why she had allowed herself to come this far. This was the last place she needed to be. The only place she could be. Her fingertips touched the door in a greeting before she knocked.
Logan swung open the door and looked out into the hall.
It was empty.
"Hello?" he called, moving out into the hall to see if someone was around the corner.
No one was there.
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