a postcard story about the ghosts that remain after forests die

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The Ghosts of Forests

a postcard story about the ghosts that remain after forests die



When the planet turned hot and dry, and all greenery withered and died, I became a ghost hunter.

Not for human ghosts. I search for the ghosts of forests.

When the moon is right, you can see them shimmering in the desert, a sea of phantom foliage swaying soundlessly, lit up like dust in the beam of a flashlight.

I don't know if anyone else can see them. I don't know if they're gone forever.

But if I keep watering their memory, maybe one day they'll grow back.

...


Short story written by Peter Chiykowski

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Story prompt taken from a photo by Alex Iby

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