Ellen’s prompt was: She sat quietly while the others ran from the apparition. “I guess you feel very brave,” she said, “but you are really a great coward.”
Here’s a very short story (?), poem(?) that began with her prompt.
She sat quietly while the others ran from the apparition.
“I guess you feel very brave,” she said, “but you are really a great coward.”
“That depends,” he answered, “on your perspective. I don’t think of myself as ghostlike. I prefer to think of myself as remarkable and unexpected.”
“Do you enjoy it when they run away?” She asked.
“I enjoy seeing their simple behavior. It humors me how shallow they are. But it hurts that they don’t bother to see who I really am. They see me, run away out of fear, and leave me no choice but to be alone.”
“Are you real?” She asked.
“I feel real. But I fear that I am seen as just a shadowy image. I am more than a shadow. I am a spirit. Looking to be found. Someday I will be truly visible to someone. I am a spirit looking for a believer. I want to guide, not scare.”
“Do you feel brave?” She asked.
“I feel lost.”
“What did you feel when I called you a coward?”
“Upset. Regretful. Sad. Misunderstood.”
“That is a lot of feelings.”
“Yes. How do you feel about me now? Do you still think I am a coward?”
“ I hope you feel brave,” she said, “but I don’t think you’re a great coward. Maybe sometimes you’re a coward. But that would make you human. So I guess calling you a coward didn’t really make sense.”
“I can see why you said it. Why didn’t you run?”
“Because I don’t like bullies and that’s what I thought you were. A cowardly bully.”
“And now?”
“You might be a bully sometimes, but you’re not being a bully now.”
“Thank you for that. I don’t like bullies either. I see them and sometimes I scare them away. I suppose you could call me a bully for doing that.”
“Yes, I suppose I could.” She sat quietly, watching and waiting for more conversation.
She heard a gust of wind and he was gone.
