By T. M. Wright
A photographer borrows his friend's manhattan condominium and is brought to Manhattan's spectral underworld by means of a gorgeous lady ghost, with whom he falls in love. Reissue. motion picture tie-in.
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Extra resources for A Manhattan Ghost Story
Because I see, too. And I hear. " I felt suddenly as if I were in the grips of a religious fanatic. " And she said, ignoring me, "I like it, sometimes. " She was trying to speak sensually, and it wasn't working-she sounded like a bullfrog. "Sometimes it feels very, very good, Mr. Cray. " I glanced about for another seat. She noticed. "You don't want to sit with me, Mr. Cray? " "No," I lied. " Another cough, then another. Her hands went to the sides of her huge breasts and squeezed hard, as if she were trying to push out whatever was in her lungs.
I had just bought some film at a photographic supplies store on East 65th, and I was heading back to Art's apartment. Traffic was very heavy because it was the rush hour, and a couple inches of snow had fallen during the afternoon, so people were having trouble navigating through it. On the other side of the street and a block ahead, a man was walking north, away from me, with what looked like a bag of groceries on one arm. He was walking fast, with his head down, and he was only one of several hundred people within that block, but he walked with a tiny, hitching limp that made his left shoulder drop an inch or so with every step and made his head, as if to compensate, nod to the right an equal distance.
We'll sleep together, Abner," she said casually. " I fought back an anticipatory grin. "That's really not the point, is it-" "You don't like black girls?? " "You're a real asshole, Abner. " I was genuinely angry now. She inclined her head to the left, toward the living room. " She chuckled. "Down the hallway, past the bathroom. " "I know where it is," I snapped, and left the room to go to the bedroom. All the way there I could hear her chuckling softly. I took a good long time unpacking, not that I had much to unpack-just a few shirts, some underwear, socks, three pairs of pants, some toiletries.
A Manhattan Ghost Story by T. M. Wright