There was no report of you that first day. When the phone rang, it wasn’t you. Family and friends called for news, or to see if I needed for anything. I thanked them for their concern, but I could not tell them that your despicable phantasm sat on the bench in our front hall.

Your parents dropped by unexpectedly, but I could not let them in. Your phantasm, sitting opposite the grandfather clock, silently talking to me… its presence was inexplicable and I feared the conclusions to which others might leap.

That evening was much like the day had been: sitting by the clock, watching your phantasm watch me with its colorless and unblinking eyes. It was the sole link that I had to you now and I was simultaneously captivated and repulsed by it.

Near midnight, my emotions numbed by the contents of the bottle that I started that day, I heard whispered words. I listened as closely as I was able. In the deafening silence came the stillness of my name, repeated at intervals. Nothing else.