This is a serial fiction posted in one toot daily (ish) during October on Mastodon. It was unplanned and experimental, and I’m pretty happy with the result. I hope you enjoy it. (original format)
I’m a ghost but I never died, or at least I don’t remember it. Memory and shape are both unfixed concepts to me. The only time I ever feel real is when someone sees me.
I have no power over who can see me or what they’ll see when they do. Human minds do something with my aether, project onto it, give it a form it doesn’t really have.
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A collection of microfiction written for Mastodon.
Every night, woken by half-remembered dreams of cracked bones and dripping saliva, she saw the eyes. Two burning pinpricks within a boiling shadow, dark against the darkness.
Every night, she would close her eyes, and when she woke both eyes and shadow were gone, leaving only a lingering unease.
Tonight, she kept her eyes open. Her head tilted left, then right; the eyes followed her.
‘You’re really there, aren’t you?’
‘What — what are you?’
She licked dry lips. ‘Then — why are you out here?’
–I scared myself–
She considered a moment, then lifted the other end of the blanket.… Read more