Tucked away in a forgotten closet. A musty basement kept closed away from the world.

This is where he resides now.

He paced the dark and lengthy basement that never saw a crack of sunlight due to poor planning by an apprentice builder. A vast room with no windows; only dangling exposed lights with broken strings that were once tugged every day, but, now hung in despair. Posters clung loosely around the room, unkempt and struggling to cling to the withered textured walls with cracking tape.

He traced his invisible hands along the piano keys of the overused keyboard against the wall. The solitude ringing in his ears like a dancing melody from an old instrument, an old and well versed friend. His breast ached and for a moment he suspected it was his heart, but, shook his head finding solace in an empty chest cavity.

He opens his mouth to speak-

A creaking emanated from the staircase.

The door leading to the basement opened slowly.

She blinked quickly, giving her eyes a chance to adjust to the darkness. Before she can fathom stepping onto the cracked staircase she takes in a sharp, deep breath. The dust filling her lungs in a way that was almost as painful as opening the door. She wished for strength, she willed herself to walk down the stairs to investigate.

The silence is deafening.

She could have sworn she heard a basement ghost.. singing.

Was it only just a memory? One she could not shake, one that was unbearable and almost tangible if only her fumbling hand could find the light switch.


She takes a step back, choking on stale air and tears.

He’s not here anymore.

The door closed once more as a ghostly apparition fell to it’s knees. Trapped forever, it was shackled to this world by a guitar with frayed strings that would never be held again.

Part I

3 thoughts on “A Spiritual Anchor

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