Over you I hover
as a bee

But I cannot be

I am a ghost
of the past

I have passed

Since I have been
I’ve seen

The very scene
in which you will join me

For you I will care
to bare

My soul when you bear
the pain of our union

For now I will watch
as you spend your hours

until ours
are one.

Day 18 Prompt – The Limbo Bar

Day 18 Prompt – Write a story set in a ghost town.

The Man in the Mirror

Chain mail

“How does your chain mail feel?” I ask him from the driver’s seat.

“It’s heavy,” he scowls.


It all started one day when I was sitting in the parking lot of a Tim Horton’s, eating ham and Swiss cheese on a croissant with lettuce and tomato. I was half-way through my sandwich when I heard a knock on the back window of my mini-van. I thought at first that maybe it was someone I knew. I looked in both side mirrors to see if someone was approaching the front of the car but I saw no one on foot. When I looked in the rear-view however, there he was. Needless to say I jumped – I’d thought I was alone.

“What are you doing in my car?” I shrieked at the diminutive green man in my farthest back seat. I hopped out of the van before he could answer, which was silly, because I’d left my keys in the ignition. When I reached in through the window to retrieve them he spoke.

“You asked for me!”

“I did what? Who are you?”

He puffed up his chest and gave me a wide multi-cuspate-toothed smile. “I am your prince charming!” His sharply pointed ears twitched and his finely pronged nose lifted as he said this. He was obviously quite proud of his appearance.

“But you don’t look a bit like a prince charming to me!”

“I don’t?”

“You’re green!”

“Oh my!” he exclaimed, and he disappeared.


Three days later I heard a knock on the window of my van. I was driving at the time.

“I can’t look right now,” I said, because I was concentrating on the road.

“That’s okay,” came the same voice I had heard from the little green elf-like man.

As soon as I came to a stop light I tilted my head so I could see into the farthest back seat of the car. He wasn’t there. The light turned green. I started driving.

“Pull over,” he said.

“You’ll have to wait.” I was getting annoyed at this strange being I’d been anticipating for three long days.

Just as I got to a driveway, I heard, from directly behind me.

“Oh dear. I’m still a bit green.”

By the time I pulled over I was alone.


It was two weeks before I heard the knock on the back window of my van again. I had just pulled into the parking lot of the local mall, and was looking for a spot. It was raining heavily and I lacked an umbrella, but I needed drugs. From the drug store for a change.

“Are you still green?” I asked.

“No.” His voice was as smooth as silk and as deep as dark chocolate.

I found a spot and backed in, hoping for a glimpse of my prince charming. When I put the van in park I saw him leaning between the front seats, in my rear-view mirror. He was stunning. Everything I had ever imagined in a man and… that voice…

“I’m yours to do with whatever you wish.” 70% Cocoa.

“Stay here then, I just have to run in…” The store was about to close.

“I also belong to your van,” he disclosed in a timbre fit for only the bedroom.

“What the…”

“I can’t leave your van.”

“So what’s the use of having a prince charming?”

“We can go parking.”

When I came back from the drug store he was gone.


“Why do you even bother with the chain mail?” I ask him.

“I failed as a prince charming, I thought maybe you’d like a knight in shining armor.”

“Well there was that one time…” We’re at a stop sign. I look in the mirror and see the grin I’ve come to love more than life itself.

“That was fun,” he smirks.

“Why can’t we do that again?” I ask, starting to move down the street.

“Because regardless of what you want, you NEED a knight in shining armor now.”

“What for?” I ask.


I open my eyes and there is a light shining above me. Florescent. A face with a mask.

“How are you feeling?” I masculine voice with raised, groomed, eyebrows.

“My van…” I croak. I barely recongise my own voice.

“Ma’am, your van was totalled. You’re lucky to be alive.”

“No!” I screech.

I want to die.

Puppet Master

My mind is a playground full of weird and wonderful toys. People. People are my toys to play with. They are my puppets. I am the puppet master, that’s what I am. My control is complete and the utter trash that I spew is unrivaled.

I am not God. I’m not a deity of any kind. I am Lord of my self-absorption. My will encompasses millions upon millions of souls and they aren’t even sure I exist.

I am a ghost. I have no empathy for the living.

I am Ouija. And I am bored.


One - the Art of Dori Hartley

One – the Art of Dori Hartley

You say you’ve been with me all along, and now I know it’s true.

I saw you for the first time in a magazine, when I was four.

You were my imaginary friend

Though I wasn’t aware I had One.

I saw you today.

You answered me.

You sauntered down those steps and you smiled

Your hands in your pockets

Like you’d been there all along

But I suppose you have… haha


Now I know I shall see you everywhere

Acknowledging my accomplishments

Pushing me to face my fears

And you always by my side

And at night, when I ready myself for sleep

There will be you

Playing chopsticks


The birds and the rain

I remember the birds and I remember the rain.
They sang and they dropped, from above

I remember your song and I remember the vibration
They echoed in my brain

I remember life and I remember love
They glowed

Unbearable now, the memories of life, of touch
I pass through you unnoticed
I pray for release
I pray for pain
I pray for darkness
I pray for true death

Let me go


Deep in the gloom
of exhausted sighs
The candlelit room
limitless but you
my focus
On a lavender bed
enswathed in webs
and dust
Seated on the edge
you breathe
and wait
You smile
your teeth the tip
the very threshold
I imagine your skull
your bones
choking beneath your ivory skin
webs and dust
and the scent of death



“It’s true what they said about you, isn’t it? When you were alive I mean?

“Now that you’re gone I guess it doesn’t matter. The way you died was horrible, and I’m sorry for that. Not that I had anything to do with it! Don’t come haunting me!

“Unless you want to do it nicely of course. You can watch over me if you like.

“I heard some interesting things today, at the funeral. I’m the only one here now. Everyone’s gone home, even the funeral director. I hid under a pew so we could have a few minutes in private.

“Anyways, I heard some things about you today that I never knew. Even though we were lovers for all those years it seems like maybe I hardly knew you at all.

“I have to wonder if the guys who put your face in that giant sandwich press had known you better maybe they wouldn’t have done it.

“Or come to think of it maybe that’s why they did.

“To me you were always the badass. The one who liked to whip me good and then kiss it all better. The one who sold the most drugs.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were donating all the proceeds to feed the poor?”

Two Hari

“Where are you?” I whispered in the night. The day had gone by slowly. I spent it writing, gardening, trying to keep my mind from wandering and wishing I could be with him again.

Once in bed I covered myself and waited, calling occasionally.

“Where are you?”

I’m here Faith.

I felt him, the weight of him beside me. I heard the faint rustle of his feathers. I felt the pressure of his existence beside me.

I love you Faith.

His voice sounded like the singing of fine crystal. His breath rang in my ears, through and past my regular method of hearing, directly into my mind.

“Hari?” I asked, knowing before he answered that it was him. My Angel. Hari. “Why are you here?”

Because you need me, my love.

I stiffened. He had always been there when I called, and I supposed I could have called him now, sub-consciously. I had been lonely for some time. Only once had he come, unbidden, and then only because I didn’t yet know of his existence.

“Why do I need you?” I was suddenly filled with dread.

Not for any reason you need worry about…

I felt him slide his hand up my arm to my shoulder, I felt him nuzzle my cheek, his breath lifting the fine hairs. Like fine lead crystal, Hari’s substance is delicate and yet heavy. I didn’t move for fear of breaking his tentative hold on Earth, beside me.

“I love you Hari.”

Faith… you are my reason for being…

With that he was gone.

One Hari



My name breathed so softly in my ear I didn’t bother to open my eyes. I believed it was the breeze, warmed by the rising May sunlight whispering through my window.

Faith. It’s me, your lover.

So long since I had a lover, I had to be dreaming still. That was it, the remnants of my fading dream. I snuggled down into my feather pillow and wished for deeper sleep; to let go of the awareness of the morning light. My blanket lay heavy and warm upon my shoulder, I stretched and settled back to my weekend slumber.


I couldn’t ignore it anymore, no matter how soothing it felt. I was alone in the house – or I should have been. Perhaps there was someone calling me from outside the window.

I dragged myself out of the bed and knelt before pushing back the gauze curtains. My nosy neighbour was there watering his roses and waiting for a peek at my silk chemise-covered breasts. He waved. I waved back. No way was he subtle enough to have whispered my name.

I knew it must have been Hari. He was back in my life again.