A Ghost Story of a Different Sort

Writing?
Writing for pleasure? plot? other things? What, what?

What’s troubling me now is source material.
Oh, wait.

There is too much.

Angelo ducked his head. He didn’t like it when the guards looked too sharp at him. He had been in charge of some of the pequeños. Angelo had done his best, he felt, But, it was never enough. He could feel the guards’ indifference but also? he could feel their potential for violence. He wanted to make sure  the criaturas  were OK.  He slipped a little, moving silently to the next bebé.  Angelo pressed a kiss to the child’s head, glancing sharply at an approaching guard as he did. The guard yawned, looked the other way, and moved down the next row.
Angelo sighed and pressed a kiss to the small brow of  a nearby child. Another averted. Father, he sighed, there are too many.