An Unkindness of Ghosts

by Rivers Solomon

Signs, however, didn’t rely on the existence of the supernatural. History wanted to be remembered. Evidence hated having to live in dark, hidden places and devoted itself to resurfacing. Truth was messy. The natural order of an entropic universe was to tend toward it.

That’s what ghosts really are, Aint Melusine had said, the past refusing to be forgot.

Bacteria sprung into existence first, before bug-eyed fish, before serpents, before thick-legged women with shoulders and backs so strong they could carry their whole families on them.

Magical godbeings were par for the course in Ainy’s stories, and didn’t necessarily lead to much excitement, but angry mothers meant bloodshed and trauma.

Friends who hated each other were no longer friends. Sisters who hated each other remained sisters, despite long silences, feuds, and deliberate misunderstandings.

hate nature,” she said. “And yet nature’s rather indifferent to you,”

“I enjoy it when you give me hyperbolic compliments,”