Not What You Think

This story was in response to the writing prompt: “Not what you think.”

I stand in a dark alley gazing at a shimmering gold and silver amorphous blob floating in the air. I surmise it must be an alien. I greet it by holding up my hand in a Vulcan greeting, with the ring finger and pinkie together and pulled away from the forefinger and middle finger. I grin. “Nah-noo, nah-noo!”

I watch the shimmering object for any changes in its appearance. The only difference is a hint of gray spots, as if someone dropped a pinch of a spice. I try a different tactic: I bow gracefully, pulling off my stocking cap and swinging my right arm dramatically away. I stay in a bowed position until I feel a twinge in my lower back, so I place my left hand on the base of my spine and slowly raise my head, until I stand straight.

The blob looks grayer now, and close to the top now hovers a translucent gray face. As I watch, a pair of see-through arms end with hands raised.

Gradually an entire human form, almost entirely gray but for tiny swirling specks of gold and silver, stands before me. The feet hang a foot above the ground, but they slowly and silently sink until the glowing figure stands on the pavement. I see a blue dumpster through the pellucid body.

I finally recognize the apparition. “Uncle Gilbert?”

“Yes, I am your uncle,” the ghost says.

I just started a Substack! It’s called Whimsical Words and will feature serialized fantasy and supernatural novels. whimsicalwords.substack.com