A Makiki Condo

advertises a view of the graveyard,

a selling point for believers in kismet–

a divine hand reaching from the far

side of a life lived.

At night, glass doors open to the view

from a fourteenth floor lanai,

invite images from a spectral dream–

ominous music playing in and out

like breath.

Something emerges from the shadows,

blurs past, vanishes

–a vertiginous free fall from above,

the straight line of a gravitational pull

from below.

A sharp intake of breath.

Skin prickling.

Dread setting in.

The silence that follows.

The piercing scream–

Moooooooooom!

Ricky threw Teddy out the window again!