Member-only story
Her Gospel, Part 2
A Short Story
Read Part 1 Here.
\“How is this even possible?”
The two of them sat at a table in the cafeteria. Crowded as it was with people, nobody seemed to notice the two of them at their table. They both ate salads: hers a plain side without dressing, slightly wilted; his, large and full of exotic vegetables, covered with some kind of cream dressing. She drank Perrier, he sipped from a large fountain drink.
“I’m serious,” she repeated. “How is it possible they haven’t noticed us? I mean, I get that we’re ghosts or whatever, but how did they not see the floating food and drinks? And how exactly do ghosts eat?”
“Well, metaphysics aside,” He said, picking up his fork, “Food is more than food. It is something of a spiritual,” he hesitated for a moment. “Construct. Yes, that is a good word. It is something of a spiritual construct. People bond over food, over meals. It provides the opportunity for people to come together. And more than that. It’s a way of feeling satisfaction. A way of resting, and enjoying the smaller things in life. Or so I have always thought.”
“Yeah, that makes sense.” Judging from her tone, she clearly didn’t.
“Ah, but you never did understand.” He waved his hand at her salad. “That will never bring you fullness. Not…
