By: Megan Cramer
She gazed into the photograph on the wall of the Florida condominium, seeing the image of herself at age 3, round and rosy-cheeked, waving at the camera.
She didn’t believe in ghosts, but could not help but feel the presence of her past here—the Ghost of her Summer Past at this beach condo.
Would her Ghost of Summer Future be here momentarily to show her the follies of drinking too much wine on the porch or wearing her dead grandmother’s muumuus or choosing solitude over companionship?
She lay down and closed her eyes, ready to face the Spirits.