Preview: Ghosted

Evidently, Harry chose to sign the deed because he found himself, an hour later, sitting with a greasy bag of Chinese take-out in the empty living room of the dream house.

Correction, former dream house.

This situation was a nightmare.

Except it was too depressing to be a nightmare. It was the type of unfortunate thing that only happened during waking life.

Harry wandered through the house, thinking of all their plans.

The living room with a fireplace that, once the chimney was swept, would be a cozy place to talk at the end of the day, or to open presents on Christmas morning. The pocket doors that, once repaired, would reveal surprise parties in the dining room. The kitchen with a cast iron sink where they’d wash a dog they would rescue from the pound. The windows overlooking the backyard.

The backyard was a half acre of land, currently an overgrown meadow, where they could plant their own vegetable garden. A stately oak tree stood ready for a tire swing.

He imagined their future kids, playing in the yard. T-ball in the summer. Building snowmen in the winter. In the fall, they’d build campfires and jump into piles of leaves and make their own costumes for Halloween. Frankenstein’s monster with splotchy green facepaint or a witch carrying the kitchen broom, cutting up bedsheets to dress up like ghosts.

Harry blinked.

It wasn’t his imagination. There was someone in his new backyard, draped in a white sheet like a ghost. They were tall and lanky, too old to be a child. Probably a teenager, coming by to prank the new owners.

He knocked on the glass, trying to get the kid to go away.

The ghost was watching the sunset. Harry thought it was odd that the sunset’s golden rays managed to shine through the costume, as though there were no body or bones to provide scaffolding to the sheet.

The ghost looked at Harry.

Then, the ghost disappeared.

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