Glimmer.

It's unnaturally frigid outside for this time of year.
I wish things would stop. If only for one night.

I lay in the grass, watching the stars twinkling out some cryptic message.

It's so cold tonight...

These ghosts that have haunted me for too long are learning how to breathe. One glides down and lands beside me, light as a feather, but thickening. That voice. That incessant whisper in my ear that has followed me for far too long. And the eyes.

The eyes. So...brilliant. Like fireflies in a jar. But changed, somehow. Two gleaming pearls. Two scintillating whirlpools, sucking any scrap of warmth that might have remained in my body. I shivered as a gust of wind shook the night and buffeted the grass.

Neighborhood attempts to dream, while all around them, silently, my ghosts glimmer and shake.

The figure floats on the breeze, eyes rippling, trapped in limbo; not quite yet solid, but still ghostly. Ghastly existence.
It's a beautiful, flickering sight.

And with the first crack of the breaking dawn, I, like a specter, drifted into the night.