A Wandering Spirit

To the World (whether you’re listening or not):

When I leave, which I will do soon,
I won’t go too far.

I believe many do this;
I will not be the first.

I am dying, and I am pining.
There is so much to see,
And so little have I seen.


And He granted me this wish, as I willingly passed through the barrier that separates physical and memory. Though, to all I had passed on, I was lent a spirit. I was lent the chance to pass through the world unseen, unperceived and to see what I had not seen before.
The Decider told what could be and what could not, and fair it seemed to me:
“You will fly, you will walk, and you will swim,” He said, “But you will not breathe, and you will not be real.”
“Oh,” was my only passing thought.
“You will feel, but you will not touch. You will have memories of emotion, and these you may lend. You will fall in love, you will cry, and you will beg for escape, but none will hear. You are free to travel as you wish, but none will see you, and you will see none.” He peered down at me, then with and omnipotent eye, “In how much time shall we revisit this case?” A simple question.
Fit for a simple answer, “In one hundred years.”
“So it shall be.” And as if a gavel had come thundering onto its table, all was called to order, and I was once again on the planet we call Earth.

The port of Kirkwall is quite heartwarming sight. As I floated above the gentle waters, I noticed that I felt very cold, being tossed around by the breeze. I floated to land, and at once felt it’s welcoming warmth. I saw the majestic Kirkwall Hotel, and remembered where I was.
This is not where He took me…I thought silently…Why leave me here?
Then I remembered that this was where this idea had been born, this was where I had decided that I wanted to relive Earth, silently. I laughed, and what else could I have done? My wish had come true. My laughter ended short, though, for another thought penetrated my reverie. Those who I might miss most were far from here. I swallowed one more look of Kirkwall, and turned right around. I wanted to see my family, to see how they were dealing. They had all outlived me, they had grown old, and I had died young.
From Kirkwall, I headed west, past Ireland, and into the Atlantic. I flew steadily, noticing that I did not grow tired, I felt the cold however, and shivered slightly. With a constant goal in mind, I picked up speed I never thought possible. It took me four days to cross the Atlantic, four days of endless sea, four days of cold nothingness, but I was not tired. When I finally saw land, I did not recognize the port. I decided that I must have flown directly across the Atlantic, arriving in Labrador, Canada. So, pausing briefly in the town I later learned was named, Lain, I continued to the south. I followed the coast, knowing that I would recognize Hampton Beach.
It took me one day to arrive at Hampton beach. There, I turned west, following the highway. Once I reached my hometown, I flew straight to my old home, where He had taken me. There, I found all three of my family members, my father, my mother, and my brother. My brother was setting the table for lunch as he might have done in olden days. My mother was bustling about the kitchen stove, nothing out of the ordinary, not even the silence. I hardly wondered where my father was; I knew he was in his basement office, working endlessly. He would answer summons when lunch was pronounced ready, and he would join the silent procession that we called, eating lunch.
There was nothing out of the ordinary here, and this thought calmed me greatly. Soon my mother would be returning to work, teaching at the local high school, my father would begin going on his week-long business trips, my brother would return to his small family, and the event of my passing on, would be pushed to the back of their memory. The funeral and their days of mourning were over, and life must continue.
Reassured, I now knew it was time to proceed with my planned afterlife. I found it difficult to let go however, knowing that the peace I saw before me, would not stay here long.

I spent the next hundred years wandering the Earth, silently passing, silently learning. I found that the land had memory in itself and that I could easily share it. When I had seen all that that I thought the world had to show me, I decide to settle down for a little while. I remembered where He had left me, and returned to Kirkwall. There, I settled in an abandoned building. This building was fairly recent, probably from the early 2010s. It had most likely been abandoned due to it use of ancient technology, and the impossibility of converting it into a modern building. It had formerly been a “fish and chips” restaurant, and had not been torn down because it had plans to be turned into a museum. These plans where delayed however because of someone’s budget deficit, and then further delayed because it was thought to be haunted, and no one particularly wanted to work there, or tear it down.
The idea that the building was haunted was not my idea, the legend had been there before I had arrived, I simply played with it, and made it work to my advantage. I first learned of the legend when a tour guide was leading a group through the streets, pointing out the typical 21st century architecture. He stopped his group briefly in front of my chosen place of rest and began to tell them the myth.
“Come closer ladies and gentlemen, come in close so I don’t shout and wake the ghost.” He said as he gestured for them to gather. A few of them gave sarcastic gasps at the mention of a ghost, but no more response was to be taken from this particular group.


(The room, and the secret compartments, the challenge, and my love.)