A late summer thunderstorm, just before sunset, had left the evening air clean and cool. Sonia splashed through the puddles. She enjoyed the water on her toes, preferring wet skin to wet socks. She pulled her hair elastic out, letting her gray hair fall free below her shoulders. The concrete path wound through aisles of graves. This familiar path and the moonlight let her deftly navigate the headstones until she stood in front of her client’s mother’s grave.

A plain headstone, angular and simple. Just the woman’s name and the years of her birth and death. No “beloved mother” or “loving wife”. Grass tickled the arches of her feet as she stepped off the path. Feet in contact with the earth, hands on the top of the gray stone, Sonia waited.

Whispers emerged from all directions. From somewhere to her left a strong tenor voice sang in a language Sonia didn’t understand. Italian maybe? She pushed away the notion of asking a ghost to teach her Italian. She was on the clock. Unfortunately, ghosts keep their own schedule. They have little sense of time. You can’t exactly make an appointment to interview them. They will show up when they like, usually when it’s least convenient. The trick is being in the right place and being patient. And having whatever quirk of genetics it is that lets you hear or see them

Thank you for your continued interest in my creative ventures!

Jeanne

http://www.jeannekramersmyth.com
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