The Ghost House

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Here’s a little sketch from my notebook. I don’t remember where I was going with this, but it was off to an interesting start, don’t you think? Actually, I’ve started several short pieces over the past several years, in which the narrator is a ghost. The inspiration for the premise is found in several short stories by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. The only one I’ve finished is Garden Window.

“No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of

absolute reality; even larks and katydids are supposed, by some, to dream.”

—Shirley Jackson, from The Haunting of Hill House

From my window on the second floor, I see the ocean. I stand for a long time, watching sails appear within the frame. All night, I watch the lights of anchored boats, though I do tire of this sometimes and walk the halls of my house. There are voices in the walls, and the deep voice of the sea sounding until morning for an answer I don’t have. When the sun comes up, I settle in with my family, smelling coffee and biscuits.

Shadows become lights, and Grandpa sits at the kitchen table, reading his paper and eating a bowl of Special K cereal. Many days, he has a short speech for me, about his favorite breakfast. It has more vitamins than the rest. We have toast as well and through the window we watch his hunting dogs finishing the last of the kibble he set out for them.

Kyle Kimberlin, 1.4.2002