But really, who wouldn't want a complimentary closet-ghost?
How is the weekend almost over already? Did I sleep through most of it or what? *baffled*
Here, have a 250-word "postcard story" that I'm not actually going to use as a contest submission anymore. *g* I have a better notion, y'see. Really. Or at least one that made people go "Whoa, creepy!" when I mentioned it, and is therefore clearly better.
The Roommate
April looked at the guy in her bedroom closet. He looked back at her placidly.
“This isn’t fair,” she protested. “You didn’t even die here.”
He wavered briefly into affronted transparency, her favourite blue sweater showing through his blood-spattered tee-shirt. “How would you know?”
“Because I asked,” she said, “And when they finally stopped laughing at me, I asked again because I did not want to rent another place with a complimentary closet-ghost!”
He pouted at her. “Well, it’s a nice apartment. What else am I supposed to do? Haunt the 82nd Ave crosswalk? No way. Busses would keep driving through me.” He gave a melodramatic shudder. “Once was more than enough.”
“No deal. You’ll make cold drafts. You’ll be up all hours wailing through the walls…”
“Hey, I’m a ghost, not a banshee,” he said, finger-combing his hair over the mortal wound on his temple. “There won’t be any wailing. I just need, y’know…” He grinned boyishly. “Haunts.”
“And I need quiet,” she emphasized, “Especially during exams.”
“Quiet as the grave. Hey, I’ll even help with exams! I used to tutor undergrads,” he said, before slipping back into that lopsided grin that was unfortunately already becoming familiar. “I’m Daniel, by the way. Or Danny, if you want.”
April looked at the guy in her bedroom closet. Danny looked back at her optimistically.
“Oh, fine,” she sighed, “Fine. Get out of there already. You’ll get ectoplasm on my sweater.”
In any case, it was better than being lonely.
Here, have a 250-word "postcard story" that I'm not actually going to use as a contest submission anymore. *g* I have a better notion, y'see. Really. Or at least one that made people go "Whoa, creepy!" when I mentioned it, and is therefore clearly better.
The Roommate
April looked at the guy in her bedroom closet. He looked back at her placidly.
“This isn’t fair,” she protested. “You didn’t even die here.”
He wavered briefly into affronted transparency, her favourite blue sweater showing through his blood-spattered tee-shirt. “How would you know?”
“Because I asked,” she said, “And when they finally stopped laughing at me, I asked again because I did not want to rent another place with a complimentary closet-ghost!”
He pouted at her. “Well, it’s a nice apartment. What else am I supposed to do? Haunt the 82nd Ave crosswalk? No way. Busses would keep driving through me.” He gave a melodramatic shudder. “Once was more than enough.”
“No deal. You’ll make cold drafts. You’ll be up all hours wailing through the walls…”
“Hey, I’m a ghost, not a banshee,” he said, finger-combing his hair over the mortal wound on his temple. “There won’t be any wailing. I just need, y’know…” He grinned boyishly. “Haunts.”
“And I need quiet,” she emphasized, “Especially during exams.”
“Quiet as the grave. Hey, I’ll even help with exams! I used to tutor undergrads,” he said, before slipping back into that lopsided grin that was unfortunately already becoming familiar. “I’m Daniel, by the way. Or Danny, if you want.”
April looked at the guy in her bedroom closet. Danny looked back at her optimistically.
“Oh, fine,” she sighed, “Fine. Get out of there already. You’ll get ectoplasm on my sweater.”
In any case, it was better than being lonely.