Written for Alastair’s Photo Fiction. Story begins after the image
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Word Count: 250
“Never seen anything like it, Cap’n,” said Fenton, staring at the dapper man in a white suit, neatly groomed goatee, and bolero tie.
Green nodded and presented his ID to the man. “Captain Green. London Department of Super-Normal Affairs and Job Placement.”
The man shook his hand. “Pleased tuh make your aquaintance, suh. Ah am Jeffrey Whittaker. Of the Bourbon County Whittakers, that is.”
“Would you please hold this for a moment, sir?” Green offered a lighter.
“What in tarnation is thayut?”
“It’s a lighter.”
Whittaker took it and lit his cigar. “A more peculiar gizmo, ah’ve never seen. Seems efficacious enough, though.”
Green turned to Fenton and murmured. “That lighter should have dropped straight through his hand.”
“He’s a ghost,” whispered Fenton, consulting his meter. “The readings are spot on across the board.”
Green turned back to Whittaker. “I’m sorry to tell you this, but you aren’t in the Mississippi river. You aren’t even in America anymore. This is London”
“Well ah can see thayut. Lookee over yonder. That young lady gallavantin’ around in her unmentionables. ”
“They’re called, shorts.”
Indeed, they are. She has lovely ankles, though. Ah can’t decide if ah’ve been hurled into one a’ Dante’s levels of Hell and a Den of Iniquity or carried on the wings of angels straight tuh Heaven.”
“Doesn’t seem like an angry spirit,” muttered Green.
“We couldn’t easily find a better historical source,” replied Fenton.
“Would you be interested working on the Dixie Queen as Historian and Tour guide, Mr. Whittaker?”
Alastair’s Photo Fiction is a weekly event, writing 100-200 words (400 in an emergency) from an image prompt. Here’s this week’s original prompt: http://alastairsphotofiction.wordpress.com/2013/08/18/photo-fiction-august-18th-2013/