Haunted
I do not believe in spirits or the afterlife, and yet ...
Haunted
a prose poem in 50 words
I do not believe in spirits or the afterlife. It’s all just superstitious nonsense to me. And yet, I am often visited, awake or sleeping, by my long-departed mother. She tells me to stop grieving. “You don’t need me now, sweetheart. You are all grown up. Now, pull yourself together.”
Beautiful, Sharron. Perhaps the spirits believe in you.
The beauty of this piece is proof that simplicity is frequently more powerful than complexity.