A Mind in Motion

     It's trailing after me.      Wherever it's coming from.      That stupid eerie whistling noise.      It's kind of like an old song...but not?      Stupid old miner's house. Stupid ghost stories. Stupid cute boys...      I should have known better than to take on the dare just to impress Josh. No matter how handsome the basketball player is, he isn't worth dying in a goddamn haunted shit hole for. I should have shrugged them off at the beach party. Should have watched how much I was drinking. Shouldn't have kissed those stupid soft lips.      Sigh.      Too late now.      "Where is that coming from?!" I can't make out shit beyond shapes in this fucking place, and it's almost like someone is literally right behind me whistling that tune in some bad horror movie trope. Up the creaking steps. Down the worn dusty hallway. Past the numerous open ...

They danced. In the haunting stillness of the abandoned house, they twirled, dipped, swayed and caressed like time had forgotten them. Shades of red, black and amber skin flickered between ethereal blue flames while soft--echoing music guided their whispering footsteps throughout the darkened house, filling the shadows that hid from the swelling moon consuming the skyline out broken window panes with whispers of ‘forever my love’ and ‘until our souls are born again’ . They danced. Their sunken eyes boring into each other with burning looks of longing, their ashen hearts thrumming with memories of stolen moments from a lifetime ago, and their transparent fingers gripping, tugging and digging into withered flesh and aging cloth with desperation as they moved like an endless foray. They knew not the state of their decay, their visions seared in a loop of enduring youthful ignorance that swung them like a pendulum between the living and the dead. For him...

     She found it haunting her first in the rhythmic footfalls of the old mare beneath her as they trekked under the fluttering eyes of the stars.       Tha-thump, tha-thump, tha-thump..      It was like an echo with a string tethered to a hook in her chest, tugging and pulling at her, twisting her around in her saddle looking for that familiar sound.      But it escaped her sight, ghostly in the silence, trailing them, whispering like a gentle breeze each time she turned her back on it to continue forward.      Tha-thump, tha-thump, tha-thump...      Then, like shadow spirits, it crept upon her in the night when the need to rest weighed her down until she could not longer resist. It churned the colors of her dreams--shifting muted skies to brilliant shades of blue and sands to honey and wheat--like eyes and hair she could never forget.      Tha-thump, tha-thump, tha-thump...