I feel the burn of eyes scolding in my back. I turn to find no one looking.

I walk as the sun slowly descends, until I hear a familiar voice speak; “Hello Delia.” I freeze. I turn and look for any sign of a person, but find none.

“Hello?” I say into the empty, quiet street.

Something beside me moves and catches my eye. My shadow dances in the sunlight…but I am not moving an inch.

“You?” I say with distaste. “What are you doing?”

My shadow laughs and throws her arms into the air. “Well I am dancing, Delia. Don’t your ever dance in the golden light!” Her voice was light and cheery, but it still held the same familiarity as my own voice.

“Come one, dance!” She begs again. Looking around I make my decision. “Fine,” I say smiling. I grab her light hands and swing in the golden light, laughing and singing like two silly girls.

Lilly grew up living in the shadows of her mother's fame, virtually living in the courtroom. Her mother Elsie always expected her to follow her footsteps and become a lawyer but now at 17 years old Lilly had no idea what hers dreams were but how would she tell her mother that she was not going to law school

In the quaint town of Novis where wayward shadows fled, and pesky fires played tricks of the eye, Maeve Fields lived with her grandma.

Their house was perched precariously by the edge of a rocky cliff, far enough from the rest of the town that Maeve was labeled a freak, but not far enough that she wouldn’t know what people spoke of her.

“No father to claim her, no mother to nurse her, surly she must be the daughter of a harlot!” Rumors like those spread amongst the town gossips and made their way up the cliff, until even Maeve began to believe some of their words.

“Mind what I say dear!” her grandma would tell her in extreme moments of doubt. “Their nasty words just reflect the rotten they harbor inside.” Maeve tried believing her grandma, but when even her shadow decided to run away, the words turned sour in her mouth.

So when a few months after her shadow disappeared, her grandma passed while at the market, and Maeve was sure she harbored some curse that drew everyone away from her.

She was too young to marry and too old to be taken in by another household. The only thing left for Maeve to do was look for a job.

The Millers claimed they would take no apprenticeships in their bakery, but when Lory Lue began working there, she knew it was a lie. Then, Maeve traveled all the way to the northern hills of town to see if any farmers would need an extra hand. They were more honest than the Millers, she would give them that, when they said “your too skinny and frail to wangle a cow!” Then, a fortnight after her sixteenth birthday, fortune smiled upon Maeve as she secured employment at a tobacco factory.

Dry, cure, age, cut, roll, form, and package. She repeated those steps every day and night, until her fingers turned ash black and the days seemed to melt like aging wax. Nobody cared who she was there. The rumors quieted, and then one day, stoped. Yet, in the same breath, no eyes lingered long enough to catch the weight of her absence, as if she could vanish without a trace, swallowed by the vastness of the world.

Maeve, elbow-deep in suds, tended to her apron in the unruly company of a cranky sink that barely agreed to yield water. She scrubbed and scrubbed at the ashy stains with great concentration, that the first whisper barely caught her attention. By the second, she froze.

Something loomed behind her, and she recognized it before even having to look down. Her shadow.

“You came back!” Maeve exclaimed, watching in awe as her shadow attempted to fit the mold of the girl she became. Like her, it grew a little taller and a little wider. Only, it did not feel like her anymore. They had both been apart for to long. “Tell me, what took so long?”

Instead of responding, Maeve’s shadow silently slipped out the factories walls.

"Wait up! Don't you dare go disappearing on me!" Maeve hollered, abandoning the apron to its soggy fate in the sink and bursting through the doors of the factory. Her shadow slivered through cobble stones and townsfolk, pausing and waiting for Maeve to catch up.

She breathlessly followed, wishing her aching bones were not tired from sitting and working all day.

Her shadow paused near a screeching tram that came to a halt. Maeve weaved through the sea of men in suits and elegantly clad women, who responded with gasps of disdain.

She ran so fast, with so many distractions, that she bumped into someone who ran at a pace matched with hers.

“Oh! I am so greatly sorry!” Maeve exclaimed, all in a flustered tangle of apologies. Her knee had scraped and peeled against the side walk, and her dress had ridden up mid thigh. The boy who’s limbs tangle with hers got up first. With a swift move, he clasped her mucky hands and yanked her back on her feet.

“No, no. I am the one who must apologize” the boy said. Now that they both stood, she saw he was dressed in an expansive blue coat with gold embroidery. One she most certainly got dirty.

“Well, you see” the boy explained, pointing to a spot beside Maeve. “My shadow seems to have a mind of its own.”

The boys shadow extended a friendly wave towards Maeve, and, in response, her own shadow decided to reacquaint itself by her side.

"Curious, isn't it? I seem to be plagued by the very same problem." Maeve gave her shadow a firm stomp, her annoyance radiating in heated waves to her cheeks. However, her shadow merely crossed its arms.

The boy grinned, two dimples framing his face. “I don't believe we've been introduced, but it seems our shadows have."

Maeve stared at her shadow. The pesky little thing stood proud. “Like you said. They have a mind of their own.”

With a brief exchange of parting words, Maeve and the boy went their separate ways, but she couldn't shake the feeling that their shadows might conspire to bring them together once more.

Once upon a time, in a small village nestled at the edge of a dense forest, there lived a young girl named Lily. Lily was an imaginative and curious child, always seeking adventure in the world around her. She had a special fascination with shadows, often spending hours watching them dance and play on sunny afternoons.

One day, as Lily sat by her bedroom window, watching the shadows cast by the setting sun, something extraordinary happened. Her own shadow seemed to detach itself from her feet, taking on a life of its own. It stood tall and proud, mirroring her every movement.

Lily’s eyes widened with amazement as she realized her shadow had come to life. She cautiously stepped away, and her shadow followed suit, mimicking her every step. A sense of excitement filled her heart as she realized the possibilities that lay ahead.

From that day forward, Lily’s shadow became her constant companion. They explored the village together, playing hide-and-seek among the trees, and even performing impromptu shadow puppet shows for the villagers. The townsfolk marveled at Lily’s magical companion, and she became known as the girl with the living shadow.

Lily discovered that her shadow had a mischievous streak. It loved to surprise her by taking on different shapes and forms, transforming into animals, objects, and even famous characters from stories she had read. Together, they brought joy and wonder to everyone they encountered.

As the years went by, Lily and her shadow grew inseparable. They shared secrets, dreams, and countless adventures. They supported each other through thick and thin, their bond of friendship unbreakable.

But one fateful day, as Lily reached adulthood, her shadow began to fade. Its once vibrant hues turned dull, and its movements became slower. Lily’s heart ached as she realized her dear companion was slowly disappearing.

With tears in her eyes, Lily held her fading shadow close, whispering words of gratitude and love. She thanked it for all the magical moments they had shared, for the joy it had brought to her life. And in that moment, her shadow flickered one last time, a final burst of brilliance, before merging back with her own form.

Though her living shadow was gone, Lily carried its spirit within her heart. She continued to cherish the memories they had created and shared, forever grateful for the enchantment it had brought into her life.

And so, Lily, the girl with the living shadow, lived on, forever touched by the magic of friendship and the beauty of the shadows that danced in her world.

SHADOW'S POV

I can finally stop copying that redhead or whatever. Just gonna get a snack...wait, why am I lying flat on the ground? Oh, now I remember. I'm a shadow. Shadows always lie flat on the ground and copy their masters, whatever they do. Even if it's suspicious.

MERAIDA'S POV

So you put the milk over here- wait a minute. Something feels...off. Did I make a mistake? Nope, I haven't. They're probably just my sneakers. Guess I gotta- wha- where's my shadow? This is weird. Let me just pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming. Oh great, my shadow is gone for good.

SHADOW'S POV

Aha! A cookie! Can't belive I just found some cookies lying around here.

not-so-cute nom-nom begins

Mmm...really good! So the master chef's name is Annabeth? She's so...talented. I just wish Meraida was as good as her. Her tea sucks.

not-so-cute nom-nom ends

Hehe, I wonder what the master chef will think when she finds a missing cookie! She'll probably think like: 'Yay! Someone ate my cookie! Now I'm a master chef!'

MERAIDA'S POV

Oh, there it is! That black creature AKA my shadow! Wait- did- did my shadow just- DID IT JUST EAT BETHY'S COOKIE? I never knew shadows could eat, let alone be able to talk and stuff. Today is going pretty strange- oh, tasting time! This is the part where I get to eat other's food and they get to eat mine. Hopefully people think my coffee art is cool, same as the coffee itself. I worked so hard on this!

SHADOW'S POV

Since there's nothing else to do, I guess I'll just have to- that human moved! THAT DAMN HUMAN MOVED! I was gonna annoy him so that his already-bad soup could taste worse! Damn it! Oh-now they're heading for Meraida's counter! I thought Annabeth was the master chef in here?

MERAIDA'S POV

Hmm... Sam's vegetarian soup looks even worse than before. Only if Coach actually taught him how to make actual soup! I'll take a sip....EW! It tastes like cockroaches! Urgh!

ANNABETH'S POV

Oh, it's tasting time already? Didn't notice. I was done just so long time ago. Let me just take the cookie counter- WHO ATE MY FAVOURITE, MOST FLAVORED COOKIE? Can't be Meraida!

"MERAIDA, YOU DAMN FISH! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?"

SHADOW'S POV

It's so crowded...oh wait, I'm a shadow! Which means....

I got the tea, suckers! Time to drink Meraida's super bad tea, break the glass and get outta here!

...

It's....it's....I'll admit it, it's good. But not as good as Annabeth, DUH!

ANNABETH AND MERAIDA

"Did you eat my cookie, Meraida?" "Bethy! Of course NOT! I was just- wait, there's a black creature behind you!" "What black creature- OH! OH MY GOD! OH LORD! OH RULER OF THE HEAVENS! WHAT IS THAT?" "EXACTLY, BETHY! THAT. IS. MY. SHADOW." "YOUR WHAT? AND WHY IS IT WRIGGLING LIKE THAT?" "I DON'T KNOW! I WAS JUST MAKING THE COFFEE AND THEN MY SNEAKERS CAME UNTIED SO I DECIDED TO TIE IT AND THEN I SAW THAT MY SHADOW WAS NOT THERE!" "AAH! ITS COMING TOWARDS ME! GUYS! MERAIDA'S SHADOW LEFT HER AND NOW IT'S GONNA COME DO RYOU AS WELL! RUN!"

L’ombre: “You will not find solace here”

Robert: I wasn’t here for that

“Then why am I here?”

I brought you here because I need your shadow

“You need to stand tall for that”

I stand tallest and cast the longest

“Lies”

Tis the truth, unless you don’t find me worthy?

“I find thee worthy but not of shadow”

Not worthy?

“Yes, but not to cast”

How so?

“You can summon and that is stronger, why settle for less?”

Because it’s what I want

“Ha, but it’s not what you are fated to be”

Fated?! I shouldn’t be among the Fated

“But you are, destined for great things and be the summoner they want you to be”

What if I don’t?

….

It follows me wherever I go, morphing to mimic my movements. But if you look close, you see the horns on the shape. I do not have horns.

If you look closely, you’ll see the red dots the creature has for eyes. My eyes aren’t red, a shadow shouldn’t have eyes.

At night, my shadow stands at the foot of my bed while I lay, restless and sweating. Sometimes it paces to and fro. Sometimes it violently beats against the bedroom walls.

“Why don’t you go away?” I jump in bed and yell at the shadow, who turns and gives me a toothy grin. Shadows shouldn’t have teeth.

“I’m your shadow, friend. From the beginning of time, mankind has always had a shadow at their back- a darker side- if you will,” the shadow replies, it’s voice raspy and dry.

“I don’t need a darker side. You’ve ruined my life,” I pause. “If you’re a shadow, how come I’m the only one who sees you?”

“Because I’m the shadow of your demons, my friend.”

Francisco Sombra assumed there would be more to life than this. As a retired royal poet, and old enough to welcome his meeting with death, Francisco concluded that he had experienced all life had to offer.

He was awarded honors, given nobility status of a conquered island nation, and even witnessed, documented, and published the world’s only description of the panthera nautilus, a ferocious ocean predator the size of the kingdom’s finest merchant vessel. At one hundred and nine years old, Francisco was certain there was no surprise left in his life.

One day, when Francisco stopped, as he often did, to admire his favorite mural during his morning route, which included one coffee with a pinch of sugar and a mint leaf he produced from his threadbare jacket. Today, he was especially interested in not the painting itself, but the deteriorating effects of rain, light, and tactile admiration from other pedestrians.

At first, he examined only with his eyes and allowed his feet to guide him. The mural was of an outdated depiction of his most famous discovery. The mural of the panthera nautilus covered nearly a whole block and, at one end, began with its six spindly arms (even though Francisco’s official account documented just two spindly arms and two pairs of grasping tentacles) and ended with an embellishment that was both a horn and shell (this was, of course, proven to be true as the creature sported both meandering horns and a shell that protected its pectoral region, according to Francisco Sombra’s official account).

Francisco Sombra so enjoyed this mural because it showed how confident people can be, even when they were absolutely wrong. If it weren’t for people like him, people who dedicate their entire lives to the pursuit of truth, people would be wrong and be happy in their being wrong. This, he calculated after he had accumulated lifetimes of experience and knowledge.

He could not predict, however, why, when he lifted his hand to touch the beast’s snout, his shadow did not meet him there. Francisco spun around as fast as a centennial could and confirmed that the sun was indeed behind him as it was—he checked his pocket watch that was gifted by the Sultanate of the Blood Sea—6 PM and the sun was indeed setting behind him.

He looked down and saw that no dark form stretched from his feet.

Looking for another to share his panic, Francisco Sombra heard a loud group of people gathering near the town’s small port. He shuffled his way two blocks down, being so much in a hurry that his spare mint leaves drifted behind him, meeting their shadows when they floated to the ground.

The commotion appeared to be a celebration.

“The panthera nautilus has been caught!” a local marine collector rejoiced.

“We will commemorate this day and celebrate it for generations to come,” announced the coastal prince who was also Francisco’s benefactor for his third memoir “One Hundred and Nine Lives Lived.”

A rival naturalist and muralist, coincidentally the same one Francisco pitifully admired, smirked and said, bumping Francisco’s fragile side, “Our creature has six arms, old man.”

As Francisco readied his rebuttal, he caught a glimpse of the fisherman. A figure, about his size, stood proudly next to the coastal prince. It was faceless and shapeless. As the sun continued to set, its form, began to disintegrate into the night.

The feast and celebration of the catching, describing, and immortalizing the great panthera nautilus continued for weeks. While Francisco’s appetite for life returned, his shadow did not.

“A small price to pay for scientific truth,” he concluded.

She was a little smaller, and a little dimmer, and one of her eyes was a little off-center and her hips were slightly too broad. She was not very pretty. Celine stared at the shadow-girl, squinted, and stepped back.

Her bangs were too short. Her hair didn’t curl provocatively around her jaw; it bobbed mushroom-like above her cheeks. She wasn’t wearing makeup. Her neckline wasn’t flattering. She was not v—

“It’s… nice to meet you,” Celine’s shadow said in a fluting, high voice that sounded barely there.

“Who are you?” Celine returned, making her flinch back like a dandelion in wind.

The girl simply pointed behind Celine, where the sun would normally have sent a shadow tumbling across the cheap carpeted linoleum.

“I am an echo. A washed out copy. Yet, in some cases…” Shadow-Celine whispered, walking straight through ordinary Celine as if she were smoke, “Even that is better than the empty shell one might become.”

And with all Celine’s insecurities magnified on her face, the shadow walked out the door, Celine following in its footsteps.

Walking with you every step Comes your little student. Maybe you’re a fool today Maybe you are prudent. Still it takes persistent notes Studying each blunder Every act of kindness Sparks your understudy’s wonder. Whether you feel big or small, this moment— when push comes to shove— Be a person who your shadow wouldn’t be embarrassed of.

It was a cold winter night, Ike, had been partying , Ike, had been drinking and smoking weed. Ike was having a real good time. When an old friend walked up. Hey Ike , do you remember me Mike? Ya man , I really do . It’s been a very long time. So how you been? I have been doing great. Are you having fun? Oh ya ! Look take one of these and you will have a blast. Ike, took it without asking what it was until, he had already swallowed it. Hey Mike, what was it I took. You didn’t know? No man I didn’t. Oh shit, I thought you knew what it was. It’s called acid you will start tripping pretty soon . Just relax and enjoy the high. Ok, a while later Ike, started talking a lot more and was getting into the music. The light were changing colors and everyone was having a blast. Mike, was really tripping and decided to go outside. As he was walking Ike , notice that someone or something was following him, so as he was walking he stopped. The night seemed as if it were daylight. Ike, was just standing there when all of a sudden his shadow was moving, jumping and dancing. His shadow had come alive. Ike, couldn’t believe what he was seeing. I know I’m high as hell when my shadow starts dancing around. His shadow was calling out to Ike, come on let’s party. Ike ,started running trying to keep up with his shadow for it was leading the way. Ike knew he was high. He was finally at his truck and he got inside and cranked it up. Ike , looked around but his shadow had settled down. Let’s go for a cruise, thought Ike and he heard his shadow answer, ok let’s go! He could not see it but he heard it. Wow, he thought it sounds just like me. Ike, started driving, as he was going around a curve he could see the reflector on the road, as if they were above his truck. Dang, I sure hope I make it home. Me too, said his shadow.. after driving for a while, he finally made it home. Ike, sat in his truck for a few minutes thinking, “dang” i should of never taken acid. He was looking at his house and it looked like it was day light, but it couldn’t be because it was 2 am in the morning. Ike, got out of his truck and as he was walking toward the door his shadow was in front of him walking toward the door. He opened the door and was inside. He was still tripping hard. Everything seemed very different. I’m going to bed he thought as he laid down. All of a sudden his shadow come back to live and was moving around the room. Settle down and go to sleep. No Ike, let’s have fun and his shadow started dancing around the room. Ike closed, his eyes and was trying to sleep but his shadow would not allow it. Ike, was starting to come down as he watched his shadow slowly rest next to him. Im sure glad he has settled down. Ike was finally able to go to sleep. The next morning when Ike was up he thought to himself, I’ll never do acid again. What a trip, everything looked different and to see my shadow dance around and talk to me was really creepy. First time and last time.

                               Written By:
                               Ghostrider 
                                10-9-2023