Holy Ghost

Jack’s memory flickered in and out of the shower with Emmy, and finally came back into focus around a dusty fire in the woods on top of Hollow Mountain. He barely recalled pulling his guitar out of its case. Or that he now sat amongst the rumbles of a droning worship service.

Jack just wanted to be home. To have his conversation with Ted and bring to light the truth that still sat heavily in his pocket. And be done.

Then he’d pack up his family, even if they hated it — and leave the town he’d come to love so much. He always believed he and Emmy would live in their little white house with black shutters well into their nineties.

But God — or perhaps something else, had other plans. Jack halfheartedly strummed the chords.

Then changed up the melody to get his mind off it.