It had just rained. The streets were slick with reflections of open windows where couples fought and then made up in matter of hours.
Moon decided to show her face when the clouds parted. There was a slight twang of magic in the air.
The ghosts decided to prowl the streets. Looking for attention, love, excitement, fear or danger. Anything that would make them feel alive for just one second.
She was in one of the windows, looking down in the street. Her lover had gone off to sleep. The cigarette in her fingers let of tendrils of ghostly smoke that attracted one of the ghosts to the flaming orange ember.
He floated up to her window. She looked through him and sent a puff of smoke swirling from her lips.
The ghost lusted. His form became visible for a precious few seconds.
She saw the face. He was a handsome one. Her hand grabbed his neck and pulled him closer.
Their lips met. Sparks sizzled and the air burned. Her toes tingled. And she floated out of the window. Slowly dissolving in the air.
Her cigarette fell in the room. One of the drapes caught fire.
Her lover never even got a chance to know what happened to her.