Mia watched the shadow in growing frustration. Her mother was speaking in their shadow sign language, but the silhouette of her blowing hair kept obscuring her hands.
“I can’t understand!” Mia shouted.
Her mother’s hands dropped, then formed a heart.
A cloud passed over. When the sun reappeared, she was gone.
Mia’s father found her sobbing ten minutes later.
“I just want to see her again.”
“Me too,” he said. “But she’s dead, honey. I envy your gift of seeing her shade in full sunlight.”
He surreptitiously picked a long wig hair from his sleeve and went to hug her.
November 19th, 2020 at 1:45 am
Great story. You’ve left us partway along a winding path.
November 21st, 2020 at 3:51 am
I just love the opening of this David. It’s such a visual. I’m rereading Winston Graham’s Demelza, and your descriptions have the same essence as his. It’s simply lovely. 🙂
November 22nd, 2020 at 8:00 pm
Thanks, Susannah. I’d glad you liked it. I didn’t wan to go with a ghost story since that seemed the obvious choice, but I put my own spin on it.
November 23rd, 2020 at 3:54 am
No one spins quite like you David. Remember that. 🙂