“Maybe you saw her first? Caught a glimpse between the lines, between the letters, like a ghost in the mirror, a ghost in the wings?”

“I don't believe in the white spectre-type of ghosts you get in stories, but what if ghosts are something else? Like memories somehow caught and trapped in time, released by being in certain places where things first happened.”

“She looked from the hilt protruding between her breasts into the eyes of the boy she loved. The golden light in them enfolded her and her heart stopped beating, leaving the ghost of her smile on her mouth. Her vacant eyes mirrored something infinitely close to peace.”

“The connection was good. I could hear her breathing in the spaces between our words. How do you talk to the real person whose ghost has haunted you? How do you tell the difference between the two?”

“You’re not dead, but you’re not alive, either. You’re a wintergirl, Lia-Lia, caught in between the worlds. You’re a ghost with a beat- ing heart. Soon you’ll cross the border and be with me. I’m so stoked. I miss you wicked.”

“Reading functions as hallucinating a meaning between letters and lines. ”