She ghosted into my life like a sheet in the wind, twirling and swooping through the new year’s air.
“Help me,”she whispered.
“How?” said I.
“Hold me, just hold me.”
To my credit, I tried. I wrapped my arms about her intangible self, but could no sooner clasp the morning mist.
She loosed a wail which tore at my soul, such immeasurableΒ sorrow, her eyes of tombstone grey flicking open at my folly. I thought she might kill me then; I was wrong, as seemed my lot in life.
A strengthening breeze tousled my hair and pulled at billowing shirtsleeves. When I opened eyes I hadn’t even realised were closed, she’d vanished.
I think about her still in the darkening hours, when the bells of the new year chime. I listen and wonder to that sweetest voice as it always whispers,“Help me.”

26 thoughts on “Intangible

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