A Writer’s Book of Days Exercise: That Look

A Writer’s Book of Days Exercise: That Look

Once, when no one was looking, I tried to talk to one of the ghosts. It’s silly, I mean, I know what they are and all, but sometimes it seems like they know we’re here. Maybe it was just that someone had been standing where I was, just outside the capture range, but there was this woman who looked like her eyes were focused on mine.

They were wide, outlined in kohl to seem larger than they were, and shimmering with tears that would’ve wrecked the make-up if they’d had a chance to fall. Her hands were pressed to her chin, laced together, praying or pleading. Call me a sucker, but that look gets me every time, even when the face it’s on is translucent.

“What do you need?” A simple question that never has a simple answer, and I swear I saw recognition in those wide eyes.

But they pumped out the Bane, and she was gone. I’ll never know if she would have answered or not.

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