the ghost ledger

official registry of the rose cemetery kingdom's resident spirits, kept by the queen herself. the closed cases live in the codex. these are the ones who stayed.

"a ghost is just a habit the house refuses to break." — miranda, quoted at the gate as usual. (a candle just lit in marginalia cottage.)
cause of departure
a professional disagreement with a cat. the matter is considered settled. (see: one white whisker, offering ledge, standing apology.)
unfinished business
none on record. he stays for the lavender in the understone burrow, which nobody planted and nobody explains.
current haunt
the good mouse stone, by the cottage hearth. midmornings, the mouseleum.

marceline naps beside the stone most midmornings. neither of them brings up 1987. i think that's what peace looks like. — m.

cause of departure
held a door open through an entire january out of politeness. the january won.
unfinished business
waiting for one visitor to say "no — after you." he has been holding the gate for everybody since 1741. nobody has returned the favor yet.
current haunt
the gate of pretty things. the iron sorts fake sadness from real; wick nods at the real ones on their way in.

he can't actually touch the gate. he mimes the holding. i pretend not to notice. the arrangement works for both of us. — m.

cause of departure
held her breath all winter to hear a rosebud think. forgot to resume in spring.
unfinished business
waiting for somebody to cut a rose in the weeping rosarium so she can finally disapprove. no rose has ever been cut there. she waits beautifully.
current haunt
the weeping rosarium, third terrace, where the light lands first.

i will never cut one. she knows i know she knows. it's the longest-standing bit in the kingdom and neither of us will fold. — m.

cause of departure
witnessed an ungloved hand-hold at close range. did not survive the impropriety.
unfinished business
grading every crossing of the second-date bridge. her rubric is strict and unpublished. one perfect score has ever been awarded.
current haunt
second-date bridge, downstream rail. best judging angle on the whole ribbon.

she scored seth's crossing "adequate, and then suddenly not." the whole rosarium bloomed pink that night, so i'm counting it as the perfect score. — m.

cause of departure
unclear. possibly never departed anything. lives in the two seconds between the sky and the screen.
unfinished business
perfect attendance. has watched every broadcast from #001 through #766 from inside the delay, and has no intention of missing one.
current haunt
the 9-inch crt at the umbrella observatory. do not adjust the antenna. he likes it where it is.

if you say "yeah. the sky is doing the thing again." out loud up there, the screen says it back two seconds later. slightly kinder, somehow. seth pretends that's normal. — m.

cause of departure
the bridge, 1878. "nothing personal," he says, in a tone that suggests it was personal.
unfinished business
one last fare. he keeps the boat bailed and the fare-book open. exact change only. pebbles accepted.
current haunt
the ribbon, doing slow laps between the reeds and the second-date bridge. he will not go under the bridge. matter of principle.

skyla books a crossing every few weeks just so he can say "mind the step." she pays in pebbles. he bites each one to check it's real. — m.

cause of departure
the carving. she insists she "was going to fall over anyway," which is what she says when she doesn't want to talk about it.
unfinished business
enforcing the throne's one-occupant rule. it isn't a design choice. it's her, being particular.
current haunt
the thorn throne. she is the throne. she is also, on windy nights, the creak.

the throne fits me because she decided it does. i water her on tuesdays. yes, the chair. i water the chair. it's fine. — m.

cause of departure
this line has been left blank in a way that feels deliberate.
unfinished business
unknown. if you hum near the grave, something hums back. it always knows the harmony.
current haunt
grave 000. never anywhere else. never not there.

i filed this one as 008. the ink dried as 000. i have decided to be normal about it. — m.