By Prospero Dae
She insisted he never take her picture, and he acquiesced to her demand, even though he was a photographer by trade. She said it disrupted the fire she cradled within. “Wouldn’t you think it arrogant to take a picture of a ghost?” she would say, and he understood completely and no more words were spoken on the subject.
And even though she had now been dead for three interminably long years, she shadowed him passionately, and if he ever felt tempted to photograph his ardent angel, she would speak in a stillborn susurrus saying it disrupted her fragile fire within.