A Ghost Story

Azz is in the shower and I’m lying on her bed before we go out.
Despite the lack of air-conditioning, the house is surprisingly cool. The light breeze of the ceiling fan is enough for me in this heat.  
The others are in the living room working away but I came in here to just lie down and take a moment. The energy of the house is peaceful, there are spirits around but they’re completely harmless.

Something about Brisbane heat makes me sleepy all the time. In a rare moment, I put my phone away from me and face it down.
Dark wood, off white walls and a pressed ceiling. The detail is a wonder to look at. Are they leaves and plants with the odd flower?
Or is it something else?
Maybe it depends on who is looking.
 
A metal bird circling rhythmically with the fan. I focus on it. The t-shirts and clothes stacked in the shelves floor to ceiling slowly melt away and I feel the cotton bed cover on one side of my face, my arms and legs. I breathe in the comforting smell of home as I watch the bird complete each cycle untiringly – perfect each time.
Soon, more parts of the room fall away until it’s just the bird, me on the bed floating through space.  
But there’s something else – I don’t move but I see the door behind the bedroom door is still present. Doesn’t matter.

I’m focusing on the bird again. Harder than before. It seems to be slowing down or maybe I’m slowing down.
My heartbeat slows and so does the bird. Each cycle complete makes a slow whoosh.
Whoosh
Whoosh
The bedroom door moves slightly and the door behind it opens too.
Whoosh
Whoosh
A hand rests on my cheek and brushes me ever so slightly like the way my mum would have done to me as a child when she found me napping.
My heart bounces and starts beating rapidly, my eyes open wide and for a split second I can’t move. I can’t adjust my gaze to see who has their hand on my face.
My breath quickens and I get up with a start. Was I breathing? It felt like I’d been holding my breath.

For a moment I look around – confused and startled. The fan spins, the bird cycles and everything is just how it was.
I look behind me and notice the door behind the bedroom door. The bedroom door is open, and the other door closed behind it. There’s a painting of some flowers hanging on some string, gently knocking against the wall from the breeze of the fan.  
For now, I’m alone in the room again but something was in here just a moment ago. They’ve gone somewhere else now.
I’m calm again and plop my head back on the bed.
There’s definitely something about that Brisbane heat.

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