He just kept looking at it. She would’ve given anything to know what he was thinking.They talked about work. About school. About life. About Velma a...d their other old friends. Empty conversations, at least to Daphne. Coffee. More coffee. His hair. His eyes. His hand curled around the coffee cup. Everyone else was living their own lives. Teenage girls gossiping and bitching. An elderly couple not speaking but somehow so obviously comfortable. The endless chirpiness of the baristas and. Against the blank background of thearch, she is a photographic negative. She. Yes, it is a woman. I stare. She stares back. My mouth is dry, and I am finding difficulty inswallowing. What does one say to a ghost? "Hello?" The word sounds stupid, but "begone foul shade" seems a bit inappropriatein 21st century London. There is no reply, yet, in the time it takes my eyelids to blink, there isa change. She is distinct. She is solid. A flesh, bone and blood woman, yetall around, the building, the. More

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