The Mammoth Book Of Ghost Stories By Women (Mammoth Books) - Plot & Excerpts
A plume of carbon dioxide escapes your nostrils, vaporizing, like a ghost vanishing. Where the smaller ploughs have scraped the sidewalks, crystalline banks form glittering, otherworldly mountains and you scale one to cross the street. It has been nearly a year since Brian died. A powerful wave of grief crashed over you, and then, within an hour of his demise, leaving grief in its wake, numbness flooded you. You are anaesthetized. A voluntary amnesiac. Now, you merely exist, rather than live, opening your eyes each morning with only a mild curiosity as to whether or not this day will be different. But the days are all the same and much of the time you realize that your waking thought is naïve; hope died with your husband. You are as cold as the dead. Your brain hurts and you yank the parka’s hood down to protect your forehead and daydream about prairie winters. They had been as bad, worse really, longer, that’s for sure, but that cold was “dry”; you are just beginning to grasp what “dry”
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