Stairs

It moves so many times, in the darkness.  This thing, some shadow passing the single beam of light that stretches across the top of the stairs.  Without rhythm or reason, it simply passes like a child playing a devilish game.  Fourteen times I counted it.  Fourteen.  Left to right without ever going a way opposite.  But then it changed.  The fifteenth pass, there was no pass.  The beam of light turned black, stayed black.  And when I saw its eyes, I knew it was here to stay.

Ghost

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