THE GYPSY AND THE GHOST

As the wind softly whispered words of uncertainty, he rested his weary head under a shady tree. He knew the way out of the mist very well like he had always known his way home. No matter how clouded, no matter how dark. Shutting his eyes lazily, visions of his past slowly reappeared one by one until all reassembled into a living monolith.

Far away, someone was awakened by the cold whispering wind that had made it`s way through the mist. A gypsy woman by the fire beside her caravan. Words of magical spells and chants began forming as her tongue danced to the half sleepy voice of the night. Deep in her mind she knew that some things in life just wouldn`t go away.