The noise of the train pulling away was all that was heard. Leaving him standing there, as much of a sin of nature now then he ever was.
In spite of everything the man had windows of sanity, you see. They were short, often lasting no more then a day or two but they were enough to hold memories long repressed. In this particular window he had simply got up and left, in a sense.
One green hand was hidden in a layer of beige cloth and in the other was a rose, slightly withered from travel and mal-nourishment.
The act of walking suddenly became an impossible task, moving one foot in front of the other became, as if something he'd never done before. Though he had been sitting on a train for near seven hours he was exhausted in spirit.
The part of him that was still a man had been beckoning him to see her, images in dreams and faded postcards, kisses and sweet nothings that seemed all to simple back then…
Now, he latched onto the smallest form of the memories he had of such things.
He dragged himself along the side of the tracks, breathing in the familiar scents of the chilly morning air, when the townspeople would just start to rise and go about there business as normal, unaware of his presence, forever remaining oblivious that the man who had been christened dead, was here now, a living ghost.
Bido pinched himself to make sure he was still alive.
The house was just as he had left it near 16 years ago. He started to doubt she was still there. Her figure was still very clear in his mind, but she remained faceless, and something inside grew cold.
The lizard chimera gulped in spite of himself, now that he was there he wasn't exactly sure what he had planned on doing and approached the window, breathing on the chilly glass then wiping away the fog with a scaly hand.
She sat in her rocker, the face of the young bride she once was had grown pale and slightly wrinkled from worry. Though she wore layer upon layer of clothing he could see by her exposed bony fingers she had grown thin and frail. A man came up from behind her dressed in nothing but a soft robe and pulled her into his embrace.
And so he stood there, he did know that he had not planned on talking to her, on letting her know he was still there, still alive if you could call it that, living in this state. He found himself grow colder by the second, the rose had long been blown from his hands and was tumbling down a lonely street somewhere.
So he turned….
And then all at once he was gone, wind running through beige cloth. He pushed forward without looking back, hoping to get to the Devil's Nest before his short sanity was over.
The man rocked her in his arms, noticing the sudden ill look in her eyes.
"Something wrong?"
She turned her body to face him with her arm tensely gripping the rocker.
"Dear, this is absurd but… I think I heard a ghost."