GHOSTS

They're everywhere ghosts. And they like to mess with us.

I think of them as cartoons of the dead, Animations from the grave. Adverts in the intermission. Interreference on the screen of life. They can be a pain.

I've seen them you know, Ghosts.

We'll one really.

I was fiddling with some mirrors in my bedroom, after the teacher challenged us, to see if I could capture infinity. I set up five of them all reflecting each other's pictures. A nest of realities. It was beautiful if I say so myself.

Whilst lost in the scattering I detected a thin fog forming.

And their it was.

A woman's spirit caught in the mirrors flitting about trying to get out.

It reminded me of the Ghostbusters' ghost-trap. But they're not real. This was.

The creepiest bit was when she stopped gyrating and stared straight at me.

That woman hated me, I could tell. She wanted my life.

Scared of her getting out I quickly turned the mirrors flat and put them back in the rooms I'd found them.

Seeing a ghost like this is unusual. A certain algorithm of light and circumstance needs to come together to allow it to happen and as I've said it's only happened to me once.

More often than not I feel them. They piggyback my hand as I'm typing, attempting to type as well, as they might have done in life. I half expect them to change what I'm writing but besides a few nudges of the keys they never have. 

Oddly enough it's almost a pleasant experience and lends a whole new meaning to the idea of ghost writing! I do feel sorry for them to be honest. Writing connects people from all walks and all ages across the years. They yearn for that connection. I can feel one now resting on my fingers,

They taste strange too. Yes, I've tasted ghosts! A few times. Being a form of charged mist they can easily enter your mouth. I've literally eaten phantoms! They like to be shovelled into my mouth with a spoon whilst I'm eating pudding. It sounds crazy I know! Maybe it's the memory of desserts that they find so sweet and wish more than anything to taste them again.

It's the light static that gives them away in your mouth. A sort of powdery buzz like when you put battery contacts on your tongue. There's a hint of iron as well, as if you've bit the inside of your cheek but only very slightly. I imagine they have a tinge of blood still lingering inside them after living a proper life. Like memory foam I guess.

It would be great if I could say I enjoy eating ghosts like I do candyfloss but I don't really. They can get over-excited inside your body and forget that they're dead. It all comes flooding back in a fashion once they fill your limbs and head like a hand in a glove. But without substance they can't do anything and get annoyed. 

I had one in me a while back. I think it was a girl. She was kicking inside me like a baby. I pitied her. She felt small. She must have died young. A mere tooth. She left through my eyes, which made them water slightly. Ghost tears of all things!

Anyway, I'm going to stop typing. The presence on my hands is desperate to write and making me sli 

           p.

Its best if I carry on later when its hopefully cleared of 

                                                                                       f!