Ever see a Ghost standing right in front of you? I have. Just a few days ago, I was innocently shopping at Target when what to my wondering eyes did appear but… someone who wasn’t supposed to be there!
I froze, my hands shaking as they gripped the handle of my big red shopping cart. I moved ever so slightly closer. I stood to the left of the totally real and non-ghost-like figure, looking him over from head to toe — keeping the cart between us for my protection. If it actually was him, I could hide behind it and quietly wheel away down the nearest aisle. (I’ll explain why I’d want to do such a thing in just a moment.)
“It couldn’t possibly be him, though” I thought to myself, as an almost knowing, sly smile crept upon his lips. I froze again… then rolled slowly around to the other side of him.
I looked him over from head to toe again, this time trying to appear normal; unconcerned. Anything else might cause undue attention to myself and attention was the last thing I wanted because… I had not actually done anything special with my hair or face or clothing that day. Everything about my appearance said: I’ve been working from home for the past two weeks.
I hoped the Ghost would understand that I could not properly entertain him in such a state of existence.
Luckily, all along he had been doing a great job ignoring my presence — even though we were standing less than five feet away from each other — as if I was the one who was invisible. I thought about leaving and coming back later for the item I was looking for, but I couldn’t move. The real problem was… he was standing directly in front of the very object I needed… and staring at it as though he knew. How was I going to grab-it-and-go without him noticing me?
Thankfully, he never looked at me at all. He also said nothing, which was quite helpful since I was too shocked to speak myself.
And, after all… what could I have said?
"I saw you tonight.... ....I could have called to you But what to say? ...That my eyes were these reluctant thieves?" -Merrit Malloy
A moment later, he backed away and I quickly retrieved my item, dropped it into my cart and scanned the general area for any remaining traces of him. He had disappeared. I finally wheeled away stunned, thinking, “There’s no way that was him, is there?” I glanced back over my shoulder again where there was still no sign of him. Was he even real?
Haircut. Profile. Height. Weight. Clothes. Shoes. Essence.
All of it was him.
. . . . .
Last fall, he told me a similar story… about seeing me somewhere I wasn’t.
And then, of course, there is this.