City of ghosts

The people had deserted the city decades ago, left it to the ghosts they couldn’t chase away. It had stood there since then, slowly falling apart. The once so richly coloured houses, the proud of every family, were plain now, paint flaked off. Once-white curains hang outside broken windows, lifted up and dropped down again by the never-quiet winds.

When there still lived people in the city, there had been walls. All around the city they stood, especially designed to break the winds. Those walls were long-gone now, fallen apart by lack of maintenance, like everything else in the city.

All that had never changed in all those years, were the ghosts. No-one could remember when exactly they first appeared. They just were. Sometimes they appeared in houses and offices, hovering a few inches above the ground, not quite invisible, but not really there, either. They never spoke, just hovered silently untill they disappeared. Sometimes they found someone of their interest and followed that person around, for a while, until something else caught their interest.
The children seemed to get the ghosts better than the adults, even seemed to have found some way of communicating. They played unintelligible games where the kids ran through or around the ghosts, or chased, or were beying chased. The ghosts favourite came seemed to act elaborate dyingscenes, where the childred killed them in various ways and they died slowly, falling to the ground yet never touching it, slowly disappearing until they were nearly gone, popping up again with all their energy, making the kids laugh untill they rolled on the ground.

When they left, the children cried. They asked their parents why they were leaving, why the ghosts couldn’t come. The parents sat in their cars with grim faces and didn’t answer the questions.

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