Prose: Ghosts – 12/04/21

I will detail a peculiar incident that I once experienced. One might attribute it to tiredness, others to something more intriguing and perhaps with some elements that could be further looked into upon then, and future nights. 

As I rest upon the couch, I close my eyes and strangely experience this golden sensation of euphoria. It is like white lace woven with golden, glistening lace, and around my forehead I feel this certain aura. It’s odd, this sensation, it is one like a state of bliss, it is encompassing my upper face now and throbbing almost from within. Suddenly, something mischievous and perhaps malicious passes through me and then I am wearing this slightly deranged grin upon my face. It’s as though a spirit has overtaken me for the moment, and now gone is the white and golden lace. I remark to my friend close by that to me, its colour is that of deep purple and black; he humours me, I suspect, but he wants to leave this spiritual talk at that. 

“Are you returning to when you wanted to see ghosts again?” he asks. I don’t know what he’s talking about, I can’t remember those times at all, they must have long passed. I scoff at him, tell him I’m not looking for ghosts, but was there something here, that passed by, I wondered, aloud? 

“Sensations can be powerful,” he replied simply, and with a slight, and worried shrug. I’m not concerned. Though, of these sensations I am mildly curious enough. 

© 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Denis Oliveira on Unsplash

Lauren M. Hancock poetry and prose home

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