Friday Fictioneers – Chorus of Ghosts

So it’s a few days late, but I wanted to write a small piece based on the picture prompt from last week’s Friday Fictioneers.  The picture itself could lend itself to so many different things.

Chorus of Ghosts

copyright-erin-leary

Photograph copyright Erin Leary

The way the water moved was a chorus of secrets; of names lost to time, words to fear. A hand would brush your cheek as you walked the nearby paths, clouds of mist would blur even the brightest sun into a pale moonlight.

Standing on the edge of the stream felt like breaking the rules.

As I stepped further in – to my ankles, my knees, my waist – the whispers grew louder. The hand against my cheek was soft as I took a breath, sinking beneath the surface.

I wanted to sing with the chorus of ghosts.

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