Henry

Last night, I dreamed I was flying, stretching out both my arms hoping that it might act as wings. When the howling wind refused to lift me, I closed my eyes and wait impatiently for death to take me away. Only to realize I wasn't really flying, but falling. And the helpless cry of a girl can be heard from above, as she saw me falling to the ground.

And then I died. On a bitter, cold night. Beneath a black sky and a bruised winter moon... I found myself lying unconscious on the ground. Beneath the deep cleft of the canyon.

The end came rather quickly and painless. I initially thought, it's freedom atlast! Yet no Angel of Death nor Mercy come to rescue me. And lead my soul to where it should be; Instead, I found myself trapped in this rinky-dink old town as I was when am still living. What makes it even worse is the fact that am forced to roam my old country home which remains isolated as it always were. The barren fields, this dusty wind-battered town full of small-minded bores, people to be precise. But the worst part is... the girl I love is gone.

I have no one else around. You see am just a ghost. A ghost from the past. Still wandering. haunting.

Life as a ghost isn't bad at all. At least I can do what I want and float with ease. Yes we lost our ability to walk, but this gives us the privilege to fly. To soar high. Finally, I am flying. Though not beyond the sky's limit. The atmosphere serves as the wall to the infinity. We are no different to a bird. Hovering like mist and as free as the air to move along. But none of it can hide the fact that am just an unseen ghost trapped for so long...

Tonight, I rode the wind once more. Which quite become a routine for me. Ready to take another long flight to the sky where the star kept shining bright. Then back from where I was, a long distant house that set me from the outside world apart.

Once inside I rush down the hallway past more vacant rooms, my silent screams bouncing off in every walls. My father's precious house, that once served as host to luxurious social events has gone empty for so long. The previously most celebrated house — the Pickfair of Cedar Canyon, is now devoid of life except for insects and rodents, and they can't help me ease the pain either; for the girl I love is now gone.

I can no longer smell the scent of her perfume. Nor taste the sweet honeycomb from her cherry-colored lips. I don't remember her face nor her voice anymore. For its been 5 long decades since I was gone. I missed her. I wish I could be with her. But I know t'was impossible. For I am trapped here all alone.

At the uppermost landing of the staircase, I slip beneath the door, back to the turret, which been my favorite refuge both in life and even after death. I swirl the room twice, once fast, then getting on slowly the second time. Soothed by the old plaster and wood that served as a deaf/mute witness to my living days and music score from my violin music, I reminisce the old notes that echoes from a time when I played for her while she sings a song. Although the sound of her voice is no more for me to listen to, I know the sound we've made were utterly good. Very fascinatingly good. Like a concerto, where the likes of Johann Sebastian Bach, can applaud to.

Suddenly, the wind went calm, and the sound of a sneeze startles me out of my reverie. Curious, I sweep to the window that overlooks the land behind the house. The root cellar door stands open. Something or someone—a person perhaps—is getting up from the inside! A hand reaches up from the cellar and grabs a bag and two books from the ground beside the opening.

But who could this intruder be? and what was he doing in my cellar— wait a second? Is that Yeats and Shelly? Dante, Shakespeare, Rimbaud in the spine of the books he's holding?

And then just there, when tiny particles of hope long been felt, came flashing through me! Its as if I can feel my veins once more.

A person. The sort of mind that I might reach…or possess... is here!

Atlast! This one could be my salvation! My ticket pass to finally cross the after life!

Drifting through the window and down, I sift through the minute cracks in the splintered wooden door, eager to meet my guest.