It’s not what it looks like. It’s just someone jumping on the bed. Even though you could have sworn you were alone in the room when you snapped the photo. You’re misremembering. It’s a trick of the light that makes him…because it is a him, right?…that makes him look like he’s morphing head first into something other than human. No matter what the tour guide said, there is no room 1408 in the hotel. That’s just a story for tourists. And there is no such thing as ghosts. If you were back in that room, at the moment the picture was snapped, you’d recognize the person in the photo. If you reached out to touch him, your hand would grasp firm warm…
Posts tagged “13 Ways”
this is memory — or this is dreams — or this is a memory of dreams. I lie (a darkly-yearning thing) waiting for you to cross the bridge, from where you come, to where you go You are lithe and fair and solitary — the keeper of my hope feel my heart like music carried on the wind run to me, trailing sunlight leap, a backwards child, into this forest womb I lie (a darkly-yearning thing) waiting to catch you in my arms. ***** Photo by Sandra Peterson Ramirez. Text by td Whittle.