poem23 Sep 2019 08:00 pm
Cameron N. Coulter
The ghost of the Carmelite convent never really wanted to be a nun. She had never made a
vow of silence either, almost most people assumed she had. She had wanted to do what she
was put on Earth to do, she wanted to share her soul while whispering under the starlight, but
the other nuns were bad listeners. The priest cut her off during confession. One time, he fell
asleep.
The ghost of the Carmelite convent was a perfectly chatty soul, to be honest. It's just, no one
ever stopped to listen. Folks always leaned across the room into another conversation. Even
before she was a ghost, people found it remarkably easy to look right through her.
When the ghost of the Carmelite convent became a ghost, no one noticed. She had been
dead for six cold days before they discovered the body. The truth is, she had been a ghost
long before her heart stopped beating. No one paid attention at the funeral, and the rest of
the day continued business as usual.
I hear she still haunts the benches and bell towers of the convent, just waiting for someone to
speak with. Once you get used to the cold spots, I hear she's really very sweet. You will go
talk with her, won't you?
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