Van

Eleven years ago

I stared in disbelief as too many thoughts circled through my mind.

“Hi, Van.”

Her voice was the one I heard in that space between wakefulness and sleep. It came to me when I least expected it. After a successful deal alone with my bourbon, it would remind me that I had no one with whom to share it. Hell, sometimes when I was intimate, I’d see her eyes staring back at me.

A fucking ghost, ...