Kiss Of A Ghost..

• Jayde De Vries
• Short Story
• 2010

Rain thunders down onto the dark landscape while she sits in the street unaware of all around. Men drunk and disorderly pass her by, some stare but there is something about her that makes them hurry off into the sodden night. All is dark but the bench she is seated on, a sole lamp is present, casting a glare onto her pale skin and the sleet and rain creating a glow around her silhouette. No-one asks her why she is there in her beautiful dress of red and no-one dares to stop to talk. Until.

A young man taking photos of the night and the water’s edge happens upon her. To him her beauty is astounding and he captures a photo of pure elegance. Her dainty features are glistening with water and her long dark hair has captured droplets that hang gently in the strands. Her pale skin and bright red dress stand out upon the dark landscape and the pale glow around her adds mystery to this perfect photo. While studying this photo he realises all has become silent. No longer are there shouts in the distance. The bar he had passed not too long ago is quiet yet it is too early for the men to be going home to their wives and children. Even the rain had become hushed yet it still beat down with the same ferocity as before.

Confused and in a daze he finds himself steering towards the bench under the lamp and he sits down quietly next to the girl.
She looks up for the first time that night and he finds himself staring into mysterious eyes. All he can think of is his photo and slowly he raises his camera.
The flash brightens the night and he looks down towards the display screen. The photo is beautiful, her features are full of sadness and her dark hair and eyes are contrasting against the white of her skin. Her hair is whipped around her face and her red dress sits gently on her delicate frame. As he studies the picture he murmurs about the exquisiteness of the photo. Unexpectedly he feels a cold pressure on the side of his face and he turns towards her. She pulls her head back and kisses him on the lips.
Then slowly before his eyes she fades. A smile on her face as she disappears into the background.

As confused as he was when he sat down he sat staring at the now empty space next to him, all at once the noises of the Friday night come back and the torrential rainfall has substance again. He looks down at the photograph to find that her expression of sadness had vanished and was replaced with one of bliss, of accomplishment.
Suddenly did he realise and too late. That he had been kissed by a ghost.