Ghost

ghost alleyI saw a ghost today. I was walking up High Street, towards the Blue Moon Café and Wine Shop, when out of the corner of my eye I saw someone hoist himself out of a dumpster in the alley between 15th and 16th Streets. When he hit the pavement, I saw that he had scored several bagels, which he stuffed into the pockets of his gray hoody. I didn’t recognize him at first, but something about the way he swung his legs over the side of the dumpster, the way he landed – something arrested my attention. I stopped and watched, holding my breath. After concealing his prize, he turned and began to walk towards me. He had a limp, I noticed. He was a good ten yards away from me, and it was getting dark, but I suddenly knew who it was.

He looked right at me. Narrow face, red-rimmed eyes, wild, dirty hair and a week’s growth of beard. Our gazes met and we stared at one another for a moment. Then he turned and limped away.

I hadn’t said a word to him. When someone has been dead for over ten years, there isn’t much to say.

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