short stories

dancing

He was gone.

Jamie sat in her living room at 4:15 in the morning, trying to understand just how this was possible.

It had been three months now since she got that damn phone call.

We're so sorry for your loss...
He had intentionally drowned...
If you could come down to identify the body...

That damn phone call.

Now she sat in the living room listening to an old Elton John record he had found while they had been thrifting.

His face had lit up "we just have to get it Jamie! We have to!" They bought it, and that first night they listened to the entire album.

When they had gotten to Tiny Dancer he had scooped her up in his big arms, dancing with her.

Now, she sat listening to that same song, tears streaming down her face.

How was she supposed to move on?

He had killed himself. He drowned himself because she had been distant. Because she was scared of getting too close.

Jamie stood up alley close  of a sudden and began to sway lightly to the music, just how he did all those nights ago.

Suddenly she could feel him, feel him close to her. He held her close and suddenly she didn't feel as lonely.

His voice seemed to whisper I love you.

Jamie broke down, sobbing. "River," she cried. "Why'd you leave me? I needed you. I need you. Please. River, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry"

In the morning, her roommate found Jamie dead.

She had died of an overdose, in her tub, Elton John playing in the background.

Now here she was dancing with his ghost.