This week’s FridayPhrases post is a bit rushed as NaNoWriMo is draining the batteries. Squeezing everything else in around writing at the moment.
This week’s prompt: Tweets from the Dead
My fingers passed through the glass. Shock rippled through me. How? No thin reflection stared back at me. What had happened?
The flat tone of the hospital machine. I stare at my skeletal shape, lying there, organs finally given up. Ghostly hands before.
Hearts bleed. She watches tears. Just a ghost. But she can still feel. Why? The word hovers in the air. Why wasn’t she stronger?