the ghost and the unlocked dock

The small voice thins.

“You know, I’d be willing to bet that when we get to the other end – if there even is one – that thing will be there waiting, to tell us to go back to the other-other end. I’m pretty sure it was trying to make me angry, so I would want to get away. And like it said, there was only one way I could go…”

A moment.

“I don’t know, maybe I’m being paranoid. Do you think there’s an other end? Maybe we took a wrong turn, right? Or um. Maybe we’re going the right direction, the wrong way? What is…”

Stalactic in the static along the long left side of the only one way…

“…that.”

…with nothing at all, for a frame.

“I um. I don’t think this is the other end. What’s that sound?”

The small voice listens. The ghost gazes long.

“Listen to me, ghost,” the small voice says with sudden nerve, “I meant what I said back there. I will be your friend. Your very best friend. Okay? And as your best friend, I’m asking you – begging you – please do not go in there. There is no chance in a frozen hell that I’m going near that, and if you go then I… “

what is that sound?

“…please don’t leave me alone here.”

A look.

A moment.

And on.

“Oh, thank God,” the small voice sighs, “I mean, thank you! Dude, what the hell was that?”

Something, and its frame, shrink behind to a simple line.

“You know, that would have been a great time for you to speak up. Something like ‘hell no’ would have been perfect. Maybe that’s just how you are all the time, unfazed by… what, anything?”

The air falters.

“Um. Is it just me, or did it just get colder?”

A look.

“That’s weird, right?”

Another.

“That is fucking weird. Maybe that door was letting in a draft?”

A shiver.

“I don’t know,” the small voice says quietly, “I don’t like this.”