The Lonely Ghost
scare me up a little bit of love
This short story was written as part of my year-long creative writing challenge. Every Monday, I use a random number generator to select a new writing prompt and share my response by the following weekend. You can learn more about the project here.
Write a story that feels lonely, despite being set in a packed location.
Far above the lights and the noise of Clio’s party, a ghost sits watching the crowd. The music has changed since the woman in the golden fish mask left the owl-that-was-not-an-owl on the couch. It pulses now in a heady beat, a summoning spell.
All through the packed little cottage, the humans are responding to it, their bodies collapsing into one another, breath mingling and heartbeats attuning to the sound.
The ghost moves closer to the crowd with a wistful smile on her face. She’s been here since nightfall and will stay until morning, these stolen hours when the veil is thin enough for her to pass through. The beckoning call of joy and lust is a siren song, and she sinks into it with a melancholy sigh.
The host of the party spins her way through her guests, a spark of touch and sensuality just waiting to become a wildfire. Everywhere, people are pairing off, finding their partners in the dim, warm glow as the clock ticks past midnight. At the edge of the room, a man holds a woman close as they dance.
The ghost pauses beside them, lifting her own hand to hover a few inches away. She remembers dancing like this, the weight of another body pressed against hers own. The man bends down to kiss the woman’s neck and the ghost’s head tilts in answer.
She brushes her fingertips along their cheeks—but of course, they can’t feel anything. Neither can she. No warmth, no heat. Just a chill nothingness, a lack of sensation. The echoing space of a memory long forgotten.
The ghost’s hand drops heavily to her side. All around her, the people are caught in the tantalizing embrace of life. None of them notice as she moves through the crowd, swaying and dancing alone.
“May I join you?” a voice echoes in her ear.
The ghost turns and her eyes widen in surprise. A man is standing next to her, a man with the same washed out features and gentle translucence of herself. Another ghost, called to the party just as she was.
He reaches out his hand to her, bowing slightly at the waist. She tentatively extends her own, not quite daring to hope.
Their fingers clasp, the solid touch of skin on skin.
The ghost laughs in surprise. The man pulls her to him and they join the crowd.
For this one night, they’ll pretend that they’re human again.
This scene is a spin-off of my story-in-progress, Ordinary Magics. You can find all other scenes in this project by clicking below.
When I got this prompt, it immediately made me think of the party from my Samhain scene. I considered exploring one of the other character’s perspective, maybe Max’s intoxicated girlfriend or the owl-masked person, but I couldn’t bring myself to make anyone at that party truly feel lonely.
Instead, I decided to do this little ditty, the perspective of a wandering spirit on Samhain eve, and to give her a happy ending.
This is so beautiful
I really love this little story. The descriptions are great, and I could really feel what this ghost felt. Fun to read!