Haunted

"Just like a paperback novel 'bout a ghost in a wishing well" Gordon Lightfoot

I am walking through the old pre-Civil War house, listening to the echoes of my foot falls. There is dust on the furniture and I notice the dampish smell of the house, as though no one has been here in a while. I remembered a fragment of the last time I was in this house and warmth of the fire and how the rooms smelled of him that dry soft smell, the smell of time, of history, but this smell was oppressive. I longed to banish it from the air.

I walked upstairs and looked at the planters style bed and at the heavy drapes. I went to the window and looked down. He was there, looking up at me. I could hardly contain my joy as I ran out of the room, back down the stairs and out the big double doors. He turned as I came down his front stairs and held his arms out to me.

"I thought you were gone," I said, feeling his arms come around me. "I am so worried. How will I get through this without you?"
"You won't sweetheart, I'll be here. You have created the third world. The Source has created one world, the Connection another and you have created the third and that is where we will live exclusively until summer. We live because of you and all the people who are invested in these worlds," he said in his soft southern voice.
"But the house..it is empty and cold and lonely, like a haunted place," I said.
"It is easily remedied sweetheart, won't you come inside?" he suggested.

We walked slowly to the house and he handed me back through the front door and into the foyer of his house. We stepped into the parlor and he immediately set to work lighting a fire. Once that was accomplished, he turned to me.

"Would you like a glass of wine?" he asked.
"Please," I said.
"Sit down, warm yourself, I'll be right back," he said, leaving me to sit in his parlor. I sat back in the sofa and stretched out my legs. It was a bit warm for a fire, but I liked the way the wood smell banished the odor of dampness. I heard his foot falls as he stepped in from the dining room, carrying a large glass of red wine. "I hope you like it, it is something the lead counselor sent me for you. He says it has a lovely warmth to it."

I took the glass and sipped it. It was a burgundy, sweet with a slight tart after taste and I felt the warmth of it spread through my chest.
"Is it good?" he asked. "As you know, I am no judge of wine."
"It is wonderful, send my compliments to the lead counselor," I said.
"I shall," he said. "How are the other members of the group?"
"Well, we feel a little out to sea with our virtual home gone, but the place we are inhabiting now is wonderful and generous," I said.
"I have been visiting there as well. And you are okay with your new meeting place?" he asked.
"We will be fine, I think we will make out til we get home," I said. "I worried that you might not be there."
"Don't let those thoughts trouble you. Like I said, you have created the third world for us to live in and interact in. What will you write about during the hiatus?" he asked.
"I love the holidays, so there will be one for as many holidays as I can mark on the calendar and can spark my imagination," I said. "The there are date nights and meetings. I think I will scrounge in the forum for topics to follow in the TBA meetings, some little something to cuss and discuss."
"Well, I am sure that you will use your lovely mind to keep us alive," he said, brushing my hair away from my face. "And don't forget your mythology thread Sweetheart, you write such interesting things there, too."
"I won't," I said. I took his hand, running my fingertips over the prominent veins on his hands.

He watched me as I looked at his hands, and nowhere else. I was afraid that if I looked into his lovely heart-shaped face that he would simply fade away and I would be sitting alone, in front of a cold fire in that damp room. His hands moved up to cup my face.

"Look at me Aslinn, look into my eyes," he said, leaning closer.

Just a little something that I needed....