Sitting at the computer for hours upon end could not be good for the eyes. Or so he’d been told at least a thousand times. But he could not bring himself to stop the game now.

He’d looked over his shoulder to the clock: 3:03. In the AM. All was quiet in the house. Or at least as quiet as it would get. Sure there was snoring going on, but that was usual.

A quick fix of caffeine was all he needed for one more hour, the sun wouldn’t be up, neither would his mom, and he would be asleep when they both finally did rise.

Padding silently across the livingroom floor in socked feet, he passed the hallway, seeing a pale white figure in his peripheral vision he stopped cold. He closed his eyes. Then opened them again. He was holding his breath.

It was still there, in the corner of his eye. He inhaled slowly as he could manage and turned toward the figure. There she was. Standing in front of his mother’s room.

She looked his age now. Her hair still long, wearing the same dress.

The ghost in the hall.