Tuesday, November 4, 2008
When he woke up, he was pleasantly surprised that Tracy was still there. He looked up at her lovingly as she hovered above his bed. She floated toward the closet and reached for one of his suit. It dropped to the floor. She turned to look at him and finally she spoke. "You have to go back to work". I shook my head. "You have to", she said. "Im not ready", I told her. "Please, for me". So for her, I took a shower, brushed my teeth, combed my hair and put on a grey suit. He didn't know if he could handle it, if he could face the world again with out her, but she had said, "I'll go with you". At first, he had been thrilled at the idea but once he was at work, he realized it wasnt such a good idea. He felt closed in sitting inside the small cubicle. The only thing distracting him, and keeping him from freaking out was talking to her. She was sitting on top of his desk, her white dress flowing as if some invisable wind were coming from some unforseen place. "People are looking at you strangely", she said. He frowned. He knew he had been talking but he didn't realize how loudly. He often forgot that he was the only one who could see and hear her. "Everyone's going to think your crazy", she said. "I dont care", I told her. "But I do, so please, use your keyboard". It took me a few seconds to realize what she was saying. She wanted me communicate by typing instead of talking, which made since, but little added up easily for me these days. So I began to type.
How do you expect me to concentrate, when all I can see and think about is you
"I could leave, if that would help."
"I'd be waiting for you when you got home."
I'd never make it thru the day without you
"But you haven't even tried."
All I do day in and day out is try, and Im tired
"I'm only tying to help".
You being here with me helps
She dropped the subject after that. I stared at the folder in front of me. Not really sure what I was suppose to be doing. Still I was here trying for her. We spent the rest of my work day in silence. I concentrated on my work...mostly. Occasionally glancing up at her, making sure she was still there. She sat still only her dress flowing in her imaginary wind, her eyes intense and focused, watching our surroundings. I silently wondered what she was looking for. Relieved when the work day was finally over, I drove home, my ghost riding shot gun.