Here is another short story that I have scribbled – please let me know what you think.
Jack comes to his ghostly senses
There once was a ghost named Jack. A little boy he once was, which meant there was a whole lot he still had to learn during his stay at the Home for Lost Souls. He turned left when the others turned right in ghostly glide class, he tripped over dreams and secret wishes while carrying a tall glass of ghoulish fumes and, worst of all, little girls smiled when he snuck up on them for haunting practice.
This all made Jack very sad – spirits have feelings just like us, you see, and when they cry we feel the effects as funny things happen: windows slam shut when there’s no breeze about, the creamy centre suddenly disappears from the chocolate eclair you’ve been saving and colours lose a bit of their sparkle (not in a vampire-y way, that’s a tale for another day). Vibrant reds suddenly look, well, brown and blues fade to grey.
But in some of his duties, Jack excelled. Despite being afraid of the light, when it was time to comfort little boys and girls crying softly into their pillows, they would give a final hiccup and snuffle and suddenly not feel so sad.
And so Jack realised his true calling. He wasn’t meant to be a ‘Jack of all ghosting’, but rather the kind that absorbs sadness and restores calm. Sure, it meant he filled up with feelings more often than his comrades did, but that was easy to fix – all he had to do was wring out the heaviness and he soon felt light and bubbly again. That’s why you might feel a little sad the next time raindrops sprinkle on your head.
Copyright Leigh Andrews 2011