Enthralled: Paranormal Diversions by Melissa Marr;Kelley Armstrong

Author:Melissa Marr;Kelley Armstrong
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2011-09-24T22:35:35+00:00

Bridge

by Jeri Smith-Ready

veryone knows

Elvis died in the bathroom.

Thanks to the internet,

everyone knows

that I did too.

But at least I was wearing pants.

My favorite Quiksilver cargo shorts,

which I’ll wear every moment

that I stay in this world.

No laundry needed,

because ghosts never sweat

or piss or anything.

I’m as dry as the bones

crumbling in my casket.

“Must be nice,”

Aura mumbles into her pillow

when I tell her

I’m going to meet George Clooney.

That’s our code

for “the beach,”

because when lifelong Baltimoreans

say “down to the ocean,”

it sounds like

“Danny Ocean.”

When we were kids,

our gang of friends

pretended we were in Ocean’s Eleven.

My big brother, Mickey, was Clooney

and I was Brad Pitt.

We’d stroll down the Ocean City boardwalk,

not nearly as slick as we imagined.

Our illusion of cool would crumble

whenever Aura or anyone younger

had to dodge the dead.

“Post-Shifters,” they call themselves,

the generation who sees ghosts.

I’d be one

if I’d been born two months later.

I’m glad I wasn’t,

since ghosts can’t see each other,

not even the ghosts of post-Shifters.

It was bad enough to lose the living

without losing the dead too.

“Senior Week trip,”

I remind Aura.

She opens her

espresso-drop eyes.

And though the morning light

washes out my violet glow,

making me invisible,

those eyes find mine.

Aura never looks through me.

She whispers, “Good luck,”

and reaches out her hand.

I cover it with my own,

wishing I could hold it.

I’d pull it to my lips,

against my cheek,

around my waist,

down my back.

Both hands,

squeezing,

sliding,

stroking.

It never ends,

this desire.

Not for me.

But Aura dreams of other hands.

In her sleep,

she whispers his name.

I wonder how much is hope

and how much is memory.

I don’t want to know.

Because whether she sighs for the past

or sighs for the future,

she sighs for him.

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