Jonas concentrated on his lunch trying desperately to block out the noisy lunch room. He read that if you could just imagine yourself vibrating faster and faster, you could leave your body. You could travel -to the astral plane.

“Jonas, stop being an idiot,” an apple followed the voice and crashed into the middle of his soup spraying beef broth all over his clothes. He looked up. His concentration, broken.

He wanted to leave his body. This small, weak and ugly body.

Jonas was approached by a strange man last summer and a conversation ensued that changed his life forever. He learned that the ethereal plane was real and that many real world objects were tied to things beyond the veil if only one could steady the soul long enough to see.

He took the same route home from school every day passing two massive old ship anchors where he saw the stranger. There was no sign of the man all school year.

One such day the school bully cornered Jonas and knocked his head hard into the ground. Jonas lay there for a long time, long enough for the blood on his smiling lips to dry.

“You okay boy? What you smiling for?” the pastor from the local church knelt next to him. Jonas pointed a finger to the sky.

There, in the birth of twilight, the belly of a ghostly ship floated in the clouds tethered to the two old anchors. From the deck he could see the stranger, waving and smiling.


A pair of Anchors

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May 26th, 2015

Posted In: Short Stories, Sunday Photo Fiction

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