Ghost-of-my-Ghost

My ghost was swimming bravely in the Sea of Losers. It had my shinbone in its jaws, and was looking forward to reconstructing my skeleton.

*

Then it remembered it was on the Moon, and it would make no difference whether it reached the shore or not. My ghost gave up the ghost.

*

My shinbone sank slowly through the Sea of Losers, each loser in turn grasping at it with its ectoplasmic tentacle, then watching it slip.

*

Meanwhile the ghost that my ghost gave up ascended equally slowly into the Moon’s airless sky, pretending to choke a little and smiling.

*

‘At last I’m free of the pretence that I’m somehow related to that dead bloke!’ the ghost of my ghost lisped excitedly to the Watchers.

*

‘Hundreds of years of aping idiotic mannerisms, which he himself only devised in his so-called adult phase!’ Ghost-of-my-Ghost continued.

*

The Watchers made a liquid metal note in their liquid metal journals as Ghost-of-my-Ghost joyously dissipated into the space between worlds.

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