Dancing With a Ghost

Being an event planner, working at my parents’ exclusive country hotel wasn’t at the top of my career list. Quite frankly, it wasn’t even on it, but when my latest venture, starting my own dance studio went pear shaped, it was suggested I give up my dream and join the family business.

It was bearable. The commute was short, but pandering to the rich and famous, finding only the best for their wedding or wake, I was starting to get itchy feet. In both senses of the word.

But things are going awry, I’m finding things in the weirdest of places and just sometimes, I feel like I’m not really alone.

Is it wishful thinking or is there something else going on here? Something, I’m not sure I want to know the answer to.

He’s just my type, the guy with the smart suits, and the dancing feet. Well he would be if I wasn’t dead!

I’ve watched him for a while now though, trying to get his attention. Sometimes I think it’s working, but haunting, that’s hard work right there, and trying to get him to notice me. It's proving a little difficult considering he can’t see me.

I have to find a way to fix that, because I want him to see me, I want to join him as he waltzes across that majestic ballroom.

Most of all, I want to be with him. Easier said than done, but somehow I have to find a way.