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A Perfect Match :iconcorvus-monedula93:Corvus-monedula93 2 2
A Ghost to the Post
I died today. First I didn't even realize it but when I got up and noticed that my body didn't - it just stayed there, lying on the bed - I understood that something might be wrong. I thought that morning coffee would chase away my usual tiredness and make my brain working better but when I came back to the bedroom, it still lay there - dead. I didn't see myself moving, neither appeared I be breathing, so I started to anticipate that I might not be alive anymore, and when I took a proper look at my hands and arms -the ones I had at the moment - they seemed to be partially transparent. This doesn't sound very much like being alive, indeed.
Two policemen came here today and after the police had inspected my home, they took my body away. Just like that. They didn't pay any attention to me, not that I'd have wanted that, though. In fact, I hid from them and seemed to succeed in that, even if I wasn't very good at hiding, when I was still living. It indeed seems that I'm dead now. Based on
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A Ghost from the Past
Author's notes: This is the sequel for my ESO fan fiction short story The Skull and the heart

William looked up to the skies and cursed the rain that had started again just a few moments before his shift had begun late in the evening. It had been raining almost constantly during the past weeks; the summer had been unusually wet in Daggerfall.
He would have preferred to stay under the shelter where he stood but he would have to do the round around the region of the city he was patrolling in that day. "Better do it now than later, when the rain might become pouring least it's still summer, so the rain isn't cold yet," he thought as he stepped out into the rain.
He did not even remember the last time when he had been assigned an indoor shift during this rainy period, and he knew that his friends shared the same problem. Aleksei, their friend who ha
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Harvia vol 2 by Corvus-monedula93 Harvia vol 2 :iconcorvus-monedula93:Corvus-monedula93 3 0 Harvia vol 1 by Corvus-monedula93 Harvia vol 1 :iconcorvus-monedula93:Corvus-monedula93 9 4 Harviasuo by Corvus-monedula93 Harviasuo :iconcorvus-monedula93:Corvus-monedula93 4 3
It's night and you're going home, like you've done so many times before. Except that this time it's different - you won't come back here again, and you've packed your old life into your car. It's kind of an end of an era.
You start the car and take the one last glance at your old home in the rearview mirror. Then you finally put the car in gear and start driving. You notice that Coldplay's Viva la vida plays on the radio - a good one, so you turn up the volume.
As you drive on the highway, the sounds of the engine and the tyres cover the music but the song playing at the moment isn't that good anyways. In fact, you put the radio off, because you prefer to listen to the background noise, you've always found it somewhat relaxing. You often fell asleep while listening to it, when your father drove and you were the passenger. But now you're the one driving.
The miles go by fast - the years have passed fast, too. You remember the first journey; when you drove into the opposite direct
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Mature content
The Skull and the Heart :iconcorvus-monedula93:Corvus-monedula93 4 8
Mirage vol II - Chapter 20 (Final chapter)
Linnea kept pushing forward, intending to go to North, as far from the settlements as possible, like she had promised to General Virchow. Her muscles were aching and the fever made her feel dizzy and weak. She was shivering from cold and every breath she took hurt her sore throat and ached in her lungs. She had not eaten or drunk anything for a great while; she had totally lost her appetite but she wished she had understood to take something to drink with her to this journey.
The bright sunlight made her head hurt. She had lost track of time and she did not know how long she had been wandering but she was certain that the transition would take place soon, thus she forced herself to keep on walking, despite her exhaustion.

"I didn't mean him with what I just said, Miss Frey..."
"...A red-haired lass, a farmer's daughter from Winds Keep - and an alchemist, just like your grandmother was. Could it have been any more obvious that you’re my niece?"

She heard the sentences Ang
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Mirage vol II - Chapter 19
"I am a murderer...I killed the hero of Daggerfall, the woman who saved the whole Glenumbra," General Alexandr Virchow thought - even though he knew that she had brought her fate upon herself with her own actions - as he put the sword down, next to her lifeless body.
Indeed he was a professional killer for Daggerfall Covenant. He had taken several lives during his military career - but the people that had met their end by his hand had been his enemies. However, killing a friend - the woman who had saved his life and who had been his son's loved one - was an extremely agonising experience for him. He would never forget how she had taken the last glance at him before she had lost her consciousness; the confused and innocent look in her green eyes would haunt him forever.
He stared at his shaking, blood-stained hands; he also shivered from cold, since he had stood out in the pouring rain when he had waited for her to return. "Oh dear Gods, how am I going to tell my son what happ
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Mirage vol II - Chapter 18
She told him her whole story - what she remembered of it - including the visits to Coldharbour due to the missions of the Prophet and the other remaining members of the Five Companions. She felt it somehow relieving to share her deepest secrets with someone before she would have to leave Nirn again; it did not matter to her anymore if she would be held insane. She would never have imagined that she would reveal those things to a necromancer - but it did not concern her, since she trusted him and considered him to be on her side in the battle against Molag Bal and the darkness threatening Glenumbra and the whole Tamriel.
He appeared to be surprised by what he had found out about her but if he thought that she was out of her mind, he hid it extremely well. He remained silent for some time; then he finally replied her, asking: "You said that those members of the Five Companions, Lyris and that...Prophet live near Daggerfall - where exactly in there?" "Why do you want to know that?"
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Mirage vol II - chapter 17
"Do you know how to ride?" General Virchow asked Linnea. "I don't know...I don't remember if I've learnt to ride," she replied honestly, not even bothering to think whether her answer sounded weird. He was silent for a while, maybe because of her strange reply, but then decided: "Alright. I think it's the best option that we ride with the same horse, then. I'll give you the reins, it's easier that way - I shouldn't use the broken limb for anything, I know. And don't worry, I'll help you out if needed." Then he said to the horseman: "Give us a calm-natured and strong horse that can carry two."
It was still evening when they left Camlorn behind and started their journey to Cath Bedraud, the ancient cemetery where they would face Angof the Gravesinger, the leader of the Bloodthorn Cult. The skies were broken; the clouds partially hid the stars and the Moons, and the winds started to strengthen. Fortunately, despite the clouds, the Moons shed enough light and there were some light posts wi
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Mirage vol II - Chapter 16
Linnea fell onto her knees exhausted, next to lifeless Faolchu. She had not cast such a strong healing spell ever before, and it had totally drained all of her energy and magicka. The void in her mind left by the Daedric visit in there was soon filled with the flood of her own thoughts. The flames had faded. It was over. Faolchu was dead, and she was alive and mostly unharmed - except that he had bitten her before he had died. She would get lycanthropy and turn into a werewolf. Or rather, because everyone who had gotten bitten would be eliminated, she would die and pass on to Aetherius. Except that it would not happen either, since her soul was in Coldharbour - she would be drawn into that Plane of Oblivion and become Molag Bal's prisoner again. Or maybe all this was only a bad dream, from which she would soon wake up like she had woken up from her nightmares so many times before.
Darien's voice forced her to focus on the world surrounding her again. "Linnea! By the Eight, you're alive
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Mirage vol II - Chapter 15
Linnea was lying on the bed, under the thick blanket and she felt so safe and content; it was warm and comfortable there, and his presence soothed her. They lay there together, like they always did in the mornings when he was not on duty. She loved how things were now like they had always been - except that his scent was different. Usually he did not wear any fragrance. She said to him drowsily, still drifting in her dream world: "Good morning, Dorian, dear."

"Oh, good morning to you, too, dear, but actually it's Darien, not Dorian," he corrected her sleepily, having just woken up. As she opened her eyes, she saw that she was not at home but in a Lion Guard tent, instead - and then she noticed that she had woken up in the same bed with Captain Gautier. "Oh, dear Gods, you're not Aleksei!" she cried out shocked and said to herself desperately: "Oh Gods...what have I done?" She could not remember well what had happened during the last night. She recalled hav
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Mirage - Heart's Day special
This is an additional chapter to my Elder Scrolls Online fan fiction story Mirage; this is the sequel to the chapter "Old Life festival", and these both chapters contain major spoilers to Mirage. So, if you are reading the story, I recommend you to finish reading it (vol I and vol II) before reading these additional chapters.

Officer Aleksei Virchow gathered his remaining strength to make the last push; he would be running out of stamina soon. He dealt the final blow with his sword, trying to disarm his opponent in the duel. He succeeded in getting his opponent to drop his weapon - but soon after that he felt how his own sword fell from his shaking hands and he heard the clang caused by the both blades hitting the ground almost simultaneously.
"I...surrender...I couldn't take another round...and...I don't want to...collapse from exhaustion in front of my troops. You're the winner," his opponen
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Mirage vol II - Chapter 14
Linnea was awoken by someone's presence in her tent; having noticed the unexpected intruder, she instinctively prepared to cast a spell to protect herself from the possible enemy. Even though she usually got up extremely slowly, this time the adrenaline rush caused by the random person in her tent chased away her tiredness quickly. As she opened her eyes, she saw Mrs. Virchow, the General's wife, standing in front of her. "I hope you slept well. I'm sorry that I had to wake you up but it's afternoon already," she greeted her. Linnea got up and replied: "Oh, no problem. It's great that you woke me up, so that I'll have time to prepare for the Duke's arrival and the meeting. I think he's going to come here today." "Well, actually the Duke arrived already this morning, and the meeting is starting right now - my husband sent me to get you there," she corrected her. It took Linnea some time to realise what she had said - and then she quickly started to tidy herself up a bit. "Here, I though
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This photo is very interesting and beautiful. The focusing in it is well done. The division in the picture is well done: the picture ki...

by m-eralp

Well, I've never written a critique before - hope this one is close enough of a critique! ;) I really admire the talent you've got with ...


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I don't know why I came back to him after what happened here. I am a highborn Altmer sorceress, not some little girl with no self-confidence. If mother saw me this...she would certainly cry. And now he thinks he possesses me and that he's stronger than me, even though that's not true, or at least I've always been the more powerful mage of us. But I knew he needs help, a couple of days ago I found out that he has angered some daedra worshippers with his arrogant actions and I anticipated they'd come after him sooner or later. That pompousness of his has always annoyed me greatly and it was probably what got him in the trouble in the first place - but I've always also found that trait in him so attractive! Even after what happened, I still have feelings for

"Fight for me! Kill my enemies!" he shouts at me as if I was his servant...and I - I do exactly as he says! On the other hand, that's the only reasonable option at the moment, since there are those two hostile cultists intruding his home, being determined to kill him. Those cowards would indeed have the superior numbers, if I wasn't here fighting for him. But now we have the upper hand, certainly being among the best wizards in Auridon!

Naturally, he lets me to do all the dirty work and stays in the back, firing his destructive spells from distance. I notice how he watches my fighting enthralled, filled with both awe and terror. The female cultist dies from my icy spears that one by one puncture her, pinning her against the wall. Those spells don't kill her immediately; before her final breath, she struggles trying to get loose but that just causes her more pain and damage. It's only after they melt when she finally loses her life. A nasty fire ball the male cultist launches at me does some damage on me but I don't feel any pain from it. On the other hand, he cries in agony as my lightning spell burns him alive. The odor of the burning flesh fills the room along with his last screams.

Our foes have now been eliminated and I straighten my skirt and wipe my long, golden hair from my face, putting the loose strands back in order. My fine corset is dirty - I hate those blood stains on my favorite garment!

He clearly feels so uneasy because of my presence and tries to ignore me. I walk to him, having the look on my face that is supposed to say: "Hey, damn it, I just saved your life! And you're not even going to thank me for that, arrogant fool?" He keeps staring at the corpses of the cultists and eventually mumbles: "Well, that was close. But you fought well. Very well."

"Of course I did! And yet, you don't even want to look at me now! How dare you?" I don't even have to say it aloud to make him know that it's what I think. He is silent for a great while and keeps gazing at the dead bodies, until he eventually says, still not turning to look at me: "You know very well why." "It's still me! But now you suddenly find your wife-to-be so horrible. This is unfair!" I protest. "You're not my fiancé anymore. You're my thrall. I resurrected your corpse to fight for me," he says frustrated.

"It's still me! I'm still here! You summoned me here," I explain him. "Oh, very well, then. It is you," he admits, eventually turning to look at me and I finally notice his fright melting away. "Now that you're here -" he continues, offering politely: "- I wonder if you have any unfinished business that you'd like to complete, before I'll release you from my service." I take an attractive position and try to smile at him suggestively, stating: "I have, indeed. So, did it occur  to you that you should reward your savior in some way?" I still really love him, and now I probably have the last chance to be with him again. He stares at me appalled and cries out: "By Auri-El! Are you really suggesting that? That would be highly...inappropriate!" "Stabbing me to death was highly inappropriate, too," I point out. "It was an accident!" he exclaims upset and adds: "I definitely didn't intend to kill my fiancé!" "Maybe you should've been more careful with that blade," I mock him and he defends himself: "Maybe you shouldn't have sneaked behind me like that and cast that electrical sparkle to my inguinal region, when I was applying a lethal enchantment on that dagger!" "That is probably true," I admit - and then blurt: "But you shouldn't have had sexual intercourse with that Bosmer wench!"

"How - how did you find out about that?" he gasps shocked. "I'm not stupid," I reply with an ice-cold voice. "I -I'm so sorry! That night was a regrettable mistake! I swear, I'd undo it, if I could. And I'd never have anticipated that you'd react so strongly, if you ever happened to discover must understand, I was extremely...intoxicated by the wine served in the Canonreeve's dinner party! You certainly are aware of that a Bosmer servant girl isn't any threat to you, a noble and highborn Altmer lady! What happened with that...lesser mer was a horrible mistake, dear!" he apologizes me. "Don't you realize that it is extremely humiliating for me that you cheated me with a bitch from an inferior race!? If it had to happen, let it at least have been some influential, superior Altmer!" I yell at him. "Again, I'm so sorry, dear. I hadn't quite thought about the matter from that point of view," he apologizes once again and asks: "Is there any way I could make it up to you anymore?"

"Well, as much as I hate you because of what you did, it brings me enough comfort to know that you'll probably think about what happened to us for the rest of your life - whereas I'll return to the blissful state of endless serenity in Aetherius soon,"  I say and he reckons: "Yes, that is true, indeed. I'll remember this for the rest of my days, no matter how long I'll live." "But there indeed is something you could do to make this up to me," I remind him with an allusive tone. He first looks carefully around him, maybe ensuring that no one can see us and then replies, this time showing more than slight interest towards me: "Oh, very well, then...may Auri-El forgive me..." I take the blood-stained corset off but soon notice that thing being essential in holding my intestines inside my abdomen, preventing them from escaping through that cursed wound! Fortunately he doesn't notice that embarrassing incident, because he is too busy with pouring himself another goblet of Colovian brandy and empying it.

"Oh, that was...quite an experience," he sighs as he dresses his clothes back on. I nod at him with a neutral expression; too bad that I couldn't feel anything anymore. "We were a perfect match," he says wistfully. "Indeed. We got the best possible hereditary compatibility score in the marital inspection," I remind him. He sits on the bed silent for a great while, thinking about something. Then he finally speaks: "Yes, why seem to be mostly alive now, even if a bit...different. Why couldn't we continue our lives like this?" "No!" I exclaim startled; using necromancy to bring back his loved one has clearly started to cloud his judgement. "I'd start to rot!" I explain shocked. "I could embalm you so well that no decaying process would take place," he suggests but I object immediately: "No! I'm dead, my place is in Aetherius now, not in the world of the living. To continue this half life much longer would be a horrible curse! I've changed. We would not be the same anymore." Then a frightening thought hits me; what if that arrogant mer who likes power will realize that now that I am his thrall, I'm owned by him... that I would be like his servant from now on, instead of being an independent elven woman - who perhaps used to be even the more influential of us back then! To get him back to his senses, I add: "And maintaining a spell like this would doubtlessly drain your energy and you wouldn't be the best wizard in Auridon anymore, since your magicka reserve would be constantly decreased because of my presence on Tamriel." I don't know very much about necromancy but hope to convince him with that; he has always been more open-minded to that dark trait of arcane arts than I was. "Well, I guess you're right this time - I can't undo what happened to you, so I have to let you go," he admits disappointed.

"How are you going to explain my death and this...mess to the authorities?" I inquire him. "I've been trying to figure that out. I doubt that they would easily believe the truth, that stabbing you was an accident - but those damned cultists who so rudely intruded our home actually did me a favor. You see, you fought against them so bravely but lost your life before I could have rushed to help you," he reveals. "No way!" I cry out displeased and explain him: "You won't give me such a dishonorable death! To have lost a battle against those petty fools, how weak I'd appear if you told that! Besides, none of them used a blade in the fight, and I have this wound on my abdominal region. Did you forget that little detail, silly?" "Of course not. I would have put the blade so that it would have appeared as if the man had killed you with it," he replies and asks: "And do you really think your death would be more honorable if I said that you ran to my dagger?" "There were at least seven of them against me, I eliminated those two but one of them managed to kill me with his blade and the ones that survived ran away in terror?" I suggest but he opposes appalled: "Seven cultists? Heaven's sake, does our house look like a war zone to you? That number of cultists certainly would have been difficult to fail to notice entering or escaping here by the neighbors!" "Alright. Four cultists, then. Two of which I killed and the rest of them escaped," I compromise. He accepts that and adds: "I'll also inform the authorities about my run-in with those Daedra worshippers - but I'll state that they forced me to make an agreement with them in the first place. That way I'll also get some protection here and get this problem with the cult dealt with for good eventually. It starts disturbing my work and research that I constantly have to be vigilant and beware those cursed criminals." "That sounds like a rational plan," I reply approvingly.

"Would you please lie down there, in front of my enchanting table where you died in the first place?" he asks me and I do as he says. It is time for me to leave. He puts me into the position that looks convincing considering the supposed cause of my death. "Farewell. Some day I'll hopefully join you in Aetherius," he says calmly. I sense his sadness but appreciate it greatly that he doesn't show his emotions by shedding tears. We both have an excellent upbringing, so that we are capable of hiding our unwanted excessive feelings that would not only be awkward for the other person seeing them but also considered as a sign of weakness. "Indeed - but before that I hope you'll have a successful career and live a prosperous, long and meaningful life," I say. "Thank you. I swear that I will protect your honor and cherish your name and memory," he promises and says his farewells. "Goodbye," I whisper. Then he lets the spell lapse and I feel the embrace of Aetherius. It feels like I was lying on the bed comfortably in the morning and the soft, gently warming sunlight filled the bedroom; I close my eyes and feel like I was falling back asleep in such morning, as I lose my consciousness and return to Aetherius.

A Perfect Match
This is an Elder Scrolls (Online) fan fiction one-chapter short story written by me. It was interesting to write about High Elves for a change :)
I died today. First I didn't even realize it but when I got up and noticed that my body didn't - it just stayed there, lying on the bed - I understood that something might be wrong. I thought that morning coffee would chase away my usual tiredness and make my brain working better but when I came back to the bedroom, it still lay there - dead. I didn't see myself moving, neither appeared I be breathing, so I started to anticipate that I might not be alive anymore, and when I took a proper look at my hands and arms -the ones I had at the moment - they seemed to be partially transparent. This doesn't sound very much like being alive, indeed.

Two policemen came here today and after the police had inspected my home, they took my body away. Just like that. They didn't pay any attention to me, not that I'd have wanted that, though. In fact, I hid from them and seemed to succeed in that, even if I wasn't very good at hiding, when I was still living. It indeed seems that I'm dead now. Based on what I know, I think I've even become a ghost. But why did I become one? I thought only people who have unfinished business with someone or something turn into ghosts when they die. I don't remember having anything that would have been left unfinished when I died. Or well, actually lots of things but they were only some small matters, or at least nothing special or important in any case.

Why did I become a ghost when I died? What's my unfinished business? I've tried to think about those questions for...for...I've lost the track of time but it feels like a long time for me anyway, but I still can't find the answer for those. Damn it, I'm sure that I'll linger here for all eternity, because I'm supposed to complete my unfinished business with someone or something but I don't even know what it is! How frustrating!

My relatives came here today and started to go through my belongings! How bothering! I'd have preferred to shout at them to stop doing it but I guess it would've done nothing good. I'm a ghost now. I'm dead to them, I'm not supposed to hang in here to haunt my relatives, right? My sister's endless nosiness turned out to be useful for me for once, since she so shamelessly went through my writings and papers. When she had finished reading my silly, embarrassing poems and love song lyrics she accidentally dropped something interesting onto the ground. I read it when they had left. It turned out to be an unfinished letter to my childhood pen pal. I had totally forgotten him. And the letter I was supposed to write back to him.

This is utterly ridiculous. The letter can't be my unfinished task, can it? I can't possibly have turned into a ghost after I died and have stayed in this world, because I semi-purposefully forgot to reply to my pen pal, when I was a child, right? When I was little, it was popular to have one or more pen pals - in addition to the one that was living in a neighboring city, I even had a pen pal from Finland! I remember the time she sent me some horrible-tasting black candy as a birthday present. I first thought she was trying to poison me with that horrible stuff but then I discovered that those strange people actually eat that kind of candy there, where she's from! However, if it was common to exchange letters with someone either near or far, it was almost equally common to slowly but certainly forget them. First you started to become lazy with writing back and it took longer and longer from you to reply until you eventually stopped replying at all. Mostly, this was a mutual occurrence, like a wordless, silent agreement; your pen pal also started replying more slowly and they never wrote another letter to for instance ask from you if the post had lost their previous letter, since they had got no reply from you lately. I really doubt it that my pen pal would have been eagerly waiting for my letter after I stopped writing back - and if he had, why didn't he write another letter to me to ask if I had simply forgotten to reply?

The more I think about it, the more convinced I become that the unfinished letter is my unfinished business and the reason why I am still here. I know it probably sounds insane but on the other hand, being a ghost sounds insane, too. So, that kind of makes sense in a weird way, maybe. I've decided to finish that letter and get it delivered to my old childhood pen pal. Except that I don't know his address, since he probably doesn't live in his childhood home anymore...but that's a problem to be solved later. First I need to get that letter written, for instance, how am I going to apologize for replying him so late...decades later? Like "I'm sorry I haven't kept in contact with you in several years but it was just recently, after I died and turned into a damned ghost, when I remembered that you exist and I have to write back"  ...uh, doesn't sound very good. Maybe I'll come up with a good excuse.

I finally managed to finish that letter, and I clearly feel that I'm going to the right direction - that this silly thing is the task I need to finish so that I can find my peace and my soul can pass on to wherever I'm supposed to move on to. About the matter of getting the letter sent to the right address: I didn't find my pen pal's current address anywhere - but I found out that his parents still live in the same place where his family lived when we still wrote to each other, and that'll have to be close enough. Most likely his parents can give that damned letter to him, when they get it!  Now I just have to send it to them.

My first endeavor to get the letter sent was a failure. The post offices aren't open at midnight. I had forgotten that simple fact during this time I've been a ghost.

My second endeavor to get the letter sent was a failure, too. This time I understood to visit the post office during the opening hours, like normal people do. Surprisingly, I didn't draw any attention to myself, when I visited there. Nobody got scared by a ghost visiting a post office. I stood in the queue with others and patiently waited for my turn to run my errand. Then I noticed an official sitting at a side desk and left my place in the queue and walked to him. "Good afternoon, sir, could I get this letter delivered, please?" I asked him. He took the letter and stared at it for a moment, then instantly replying: "No." "Excuse me?" I asked appalled and wondered: "Why not?" and he patiently explained me: "It lacks the stamp." "Oh, I see," I replied embarrassed - I had also forgotten that letters need stamps to get delivered. I'm astonished how quickly I've forgotten how things work out in the world of the living. But on the other hand, I didn't send many letters during the last years of my life. I intended to go to buy a stamp at once and be done with this all but I realized that I had no money with me, and a dead person probably can't pay with the bank card.

My third endeavor to get the letter sent was a failure, too. I visited the post office during its opening hours and there was a beautifully decorated stamp on my letter. I walked to the same official again, full of confidence, and handed the letter to him, asking: "Good afternoon, sir, could I get this letter delivered, please?" But again, he simply replied: "No." "Excuse me, sir?" I asked him, not even bothering to try to hide the astonishment in my voice, and wondered: "Why not?" Then the man replied calmly, not having even a hint of fright in his voice: "Because you are a ghost." " I - I beg you pardon?" I cried out, startled by the fact that he had noticed my current condition, and he explained: "Ghosts cannot send letters, only the living can. I have never before seen a ghost trying to send a letter, never during all these years I have spent here, so therefore it cannot be possible." "Is it so obvious that I...I'm a ghost?" I whispered shocked. "Of course it is," he replied with a polite tone. I left the post office at once, feeling extremely distressed because someone had noticed that I'm a ghost. I think it's not socially acceptable to be a ghost in this society, not to mention to be recognized as such.

My fourth endeavor to get the damned letter sent was a failure, too. Full of determination, I marched back to the post office a couple of days after my previous attempt to send the letter. "Damn it, this is utterly ridiculous! During all those years of my life, I dutifully paid the taxes and now that I'm dead, I couldn't even get one simple letter sent, because I'm a ghost! That indeed wouldn't be fair! There must be a way to finish this and finally find my peace!" I thought rather irritated on my way to the post office. I walked to the same official again and single-minded said to him: "Good afternoon, sir. I'd like to get this letter delivered finally, please." "Oh, it is you again," he observed and reminded me: "I thought I already informed you that unfortunately ghosts cannot send letters." "And why not?" I annoyed questioned what he had stated. He sighed and replied stubbornly, obviously relying on the authority he thought he possessed: "Because they just can't," but this time I didn't give up so easily and argued: "Excuse me, good sir, but I think discrimination is illegal! I have the same right to send letters as any other customer!" He looked at me and replied, obviously trying to fool me with some legal terms: "You definitely are not a natural person." I, however, tried to remember the little I knew about the law terms and snapped at him: "Maybe so, but then at least I'm a juridical person!" He stared at me for a moment but then shook his head and questioned what I just said: "I would not be quite certain about that, either." At this point I think I even cursed and said to him offended: "Damn it, I don't have to deal with you anymore, I'll choose the other official to deal with, as a customer I've got all the rights to do so!" and smiled at him arrogantly. "Oh, I don't think that's a very good idea, sir," he tried to intimidate me but I wasn't startled that easily. Thus, I left him be and placed myself at the end of the long queue of people waiting for their turn to meet that other official. Now I thought I understood why there was no queue to the official I had dealt with previously. The line moved slowly but on the other hand, I had all the time in the world to wait for my turn there!

Finally it was my turn and I walked to the woman who was standing at her desk. I smiled at her politely, greeted her and asked her: "Good day, Ms, I'd fancy to get this letter delivered to the address that is written on it, please." But she just stared at me frightened, as if she had seen a ghost - which in fact was very true in this case. She turned pale and mumbled something like "I need to get some water before I faint," and left. Then I understood to look down and noticed that I had accidentally placed myself so that my legs had disappeared into the chair that I had failed to notice standing there. This ability of walking through solid objects is quite tricky sometimes, especially if you wouldn't like to draw any attention to yourself. I subtly moved out of the chair and hoped that nobody else had seen what had just happened. Soon another woman walked to the desk and greeted me: "Apologies, the other official isn't feeling quite well today. How can I help you, sir?" I explained her that I needed to get the letter sent, and finally everything appeared to go well - but then, when I was handing the cursed envelope to her, our hands touched each other and she accidentally stuck her hand straight into mine in a horrible, unnatural way that was impossible to fail to notice! I really need to find out properly how this ability of being transparent works. That warm flesh of hers felt quite unpleasant in my ectoplasmic limb. And, instead of feeling unwell and leaving or fainting, this hag cried out triumphantly: "A ghost! I knew this place was haunted! Quickly, catch the spirit, someone call an exorcist!" I left the post office with haste.

The fifth attempt to get the letter sent remained my last endeavor to do so. One last time, I walked to the post office. I couldn't deal with the female officials anymore, since they didn't take the fact that I'm a ghost very well last time I spoke to them. Thus, the only option that remained was to swallow my pride and try to beg for mercy from the only official who didn't seem to be afraid of ghosts. I cautiously entered the post office and looked around. There seemed to be no exorcists anywhere and the old hag at the office didn't seem to notice me, so I subtly passed the other customers by and humbly walked to the official that I had in vain tried to persuade to deliver my letter before.

I slightly bent over his desk and whispered him desperately: "Listen, I know you've told me many times that ghosts can't send letters but I still can't understand why!? What harm would it cause to anyone or anything if you just looked the other way this time and let me finish my business here?" He sighed heavily and explained: "Well, first of all, it has not happened ever before, so therefore I am certain that it is not allowed this time, either. And secondly, you must understand that if the mail men started delivering letters from dead persons, it would make our company seem too slow, especially if the dead person has been deceased for several years. You must understand that I cannot allow you to worsen our public image." "Damn it, the mail company is super slow already, not even ghost letters could worsen the situation anymore," I hissed at him angrily but having seen his offended expression and remembering his superior position over me at the very moment, I instantly apologized him that I had insulted his employer and took back what I had said. I changed my tone and begged him anxiously: "Please, you must help me! I'm a ghost, like you already know. As ridiculous as this all sounds, I can't find the peace for my soul, if I can't get this letter sent to Percival Cuthbert's parents, so that they can deliver it to their son!" and couldn't resist to pose a slight threat on him: "I'll remain haunting this post office for all eternity, if it comes to that!" The official looked at me with a sad face and said: "Sending the letter to his parents wouldn't even be a good idea. It would just upset them, since Percival Cuthbert has been dead for years now." "How could you possibly know that?" I cried out suspiciously - but he explained: " Because I am Percival Cuthbert." "What?" I squeaked faintly and he added: "You see, I'm a ghost, too." For a moment we both were quiet but then I asked him - mainly to break the awkward silence but also out of curiosity: "So, what's your unfinished business? Why did you stay in this world?"

"A letter," he replied after a moment of hesitation and continued: "I remained here, in my old working place, even after my death. At days I simply wander around the building and try not to cause any inconveniences in the world of the living. But the nights I spend searching for a letter that was lost decades ago. The one that I never received from my childhood pen pal. As hard as it is to admit for me...the mail company must have lost it somewhere, because I never got it." I stared at him shocked and it all felt clear to me now. This cursed letter I was holding was the reason why we both were here! I had always thought that the ghosts would have more noble reasons to linger in this world than something like a silly letter that their pen pal never got!

"I - I'm so very sorry," I eventually managed to say and continued: "You see, I'm Albert, your childhood pen pal. And here, this is the letter you were looking for. I tried to get it delivered to you." "Oh my...this can't be true! This is the letter I've been looking for all these years!" he cried out confused and quickly grabbed it. He opened it and read it; I saw something that resembled tears glistening in the corners of his eyes as he gazed through the rows I had scribbled, and I wondered if he noticed how my clumsy childhood handwriting shifted into my adulthood - or rather, ghosthood one. "I'm so sorry I didn't send this earlier but I kind of...was always so busy and postponed finishing it, I intended to reply as soon as possible but..." I told him white lies, feeling guilty and added: "And, I didn't even realize that this would be so important to you." "Well, of course it was important to me!" he replied as if it was the most natural thing in the world that receiving the letter from a childhood pen pal was a serious matter to him. "I almost thought that you had forgotten me!" he pointed out and I lied: "Of course I hadn't," and once more apologized for my late reply.

"Well, the main thing is that I got that letter from you, eventually," he said contently, not appearing to hold any grudges against me. "So, do you think that now we can finally find the peace for our souls?" I asked him. I anticipated him, having a longer experience of being a ghost, also to have a better comprehension about the matters of being one and what happens after it, and therefore inquired: "I mean, now that we both have completed our unfinished business in this world, can we finally move on to the afterlife or whatever waits for us there and get our spirits laid to rest?" He thought about my question for a while and considered: "Yes, I think so - but I'm not going anywhere, before I've had a refreshing eggnog after all this time I've stayed here, in my old working place - now that my never ending shift has finally ended! Would you like to join my company, by the way?" "Yes, please, that'd be most delightful! I definitely feel like I also need a strong drink after everything that has happened to me recently!" I replied and smiled relieved.

It was late evening already when those two middle-aged men left the post office and walked out of it through its back door. It was a Saturday night a couple of days before the Christmas eve, and it was snowing slightly. They walked together towards the local pub, leaving no footprints onto the thin layer of pristine snow; anyone who happened to notice that, thought that they were too drunk or high, since they apparently were seeing a hallucination. On their way, one of the two men asked the other: "If getting my letter was so important to you, why didn't you ever send another letter to me to ask whether I had gotten your previous one? You know, the post could've lost one of our letters or I could have simply forgotten that it was my turn to write to you." The other man was silent for a moment before replying: "Well, at that time... I know this sounds ridiculous now... but I thought that the public organizations, such as the mail company, couldn't make mistakes, ever. And, oh pride didn't allow me to ask from you if you had forgotten me or grown bored of writing to me." "Oh, right..." the other man replied, seeming to feel a bit awkward. They walked in silence for some time, until the other man asked from his childhood pen pal in turn: "And by the way, why didn't you simply put the letter into a letterbox, instead of persistently trying to get it sent at the post office? That would've been the easiest way to get it delivered for sure!"
A Ghost to the Post
This is one of the few non fan fiction short stories I've ever written. The idea and inspiration for this came, when AneurysmGuy misread the title of one of my fan fiction short stories being "A Ghost to the Post", its name really being "A Ghost from the Past" :D Then he drew his interpretation about the misread title… and I got the idea for this writing. I simply had no other option than to write this down! :D :D


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JamesSilas Featured By Owner 1 day ago  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you for the favorite.

Corvus-monedula93 Featured By Owner 1 day ago  Hobbyist General Artist
you're welcome :)
AneurysmGuy Featured By Owner Mar 15, 2019  Hobbyist General Artist
Kiitokset faveista! 
Hauskaa viikonloppua sinnepäin. :wave:
Corvus-monedula93 Featured By Owner Mar 16, 2019  Hobbyist General Artist
Kiitokset samoin sinne :)
AneurysmGuy Featured By Owner Feb 28, 2019  Hobbyist General Artist
Kiitokset faveista! Smiley soleil - Sun  Hiihtokelit on täällä mennyttä ja luistelukin on aika vaikeata. :D
Corvus-monedula93 Featured By Owner Feb 28, 2019  Hobbyist General Artist
hanki kantoi täällä juuri illalla ^^ auringon laskettua!  ole hyvä faveista :D :D
AneurysmGuy Featured By Owner Mar 1, 2019  Hobbyist General Artist
Aurinkoista ja kylmää oli täällä, tosin ulkoillessa tulee hiki talvivaatteissa. :D
Corvus-monedula93 Featured By Owner Mar 1, 2019  Hobbyist General Artist
Juu, sen se helposti tekee!
Varagka Featured By Owner Feb 27, 2019  Professional Digital Artist
Thanks for the fav!
Corvus-monedula93 Featured By Owner Feb 27, 2019  Hobbyist General Artist
No problem :) :)
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