When, Oh When, Will the Spirit Come Callin’ For My Soul

 

The sun sank down over the river, painting the sky pale shades of mauve and cerulean and tangerine. She rested her head against the cool window that blocked the chill wind and the deep, muddy smell of the river and looked ahead.

The fluorescent ferry lights were harsh compared to the gentle sunset. When the ferry bumped against the opposite shore, she slid out of her seat and walked quickly down the gangplank.

The backpack the crew found later that evening held a bloody Saints t-shirt, a jacket, and jeans, but nothing that could lead the police to the owner.  

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20 thoughts on “When, Oh When, Will the Spirit Come Callin’ For My Soul

  1. Perhaps she ended up as a snack for Chuck. Which Jessica should totally be getting back to. I think I’ll have to poke her with a stick.
    Loved the colours you used to describe the sky. Cerulean is a favourite word of mine (can one have favourite words outside of France?)

  2. Dear Wanderer,

    Haunting story, song and video. Thanks for all. A very good story for the prompt, and this among a lot of good ones so far. Teds picture is making people pull out all of the stops and you did well.

    Aloha,

    Doug

  3. Great video and chilling story, well told. I love the description of her sitting by the window watching the scene beyond. I started my first draft VERY similarly, and then harkened to my other story and the sequel that it brought me. I could so easily envision a woman sitting at that window, thinking… planning. I would not have gone where you did, and it’s fabulous! Love the sense of peace contrasted with chilling mystery. Bravo!

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