A Ghost of Fire

by Sam Whittaker

  ***

  I awoke on the floor of Spectra’s foyer gasping and coughing. I was surrounded by everyone again. I tried to get up but several people all at once insisted I lay on the floor a few more minutes. I didn’t have the strength to protest so I merely obeyed.

  They let me lay in relative silence for a short time while I regained my strength. Then the questions came. I gave a brief account of what I had seen. They listened intently like a good class should and I felt like a teacher again.

  Vox said, “This is really getting to be too much for me.”

  “Stuart,” I said.

  “Yes?”

  “Shut up.”

  A pause, then he said, “Whatever.”