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)
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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.