Late shifts make it hard to write blog posts

I got in my car at the end of my shift, and turned the corner towards the highway when she appeared, sailing serenely between drifts of clouds. Too large to be real, too bright not to be. As I sat at the lights I thought of the journeys one would have there, perched on the very tip of that crescent vessel as she explored the stormy skies. And as I watched, I was sure I saw a little girl with long dark hair and sapphire blue eyes waving back.

My little aethereal daughter and her ship of ghostly dreams.