The Colonist

This part of the city was always a problem. Somewhere between the cobblestones and the old brownstones, the city had trapped echoes of the past. Granted, Sarah would get that just about anywhere she went, but it was particularly bad here. She staunchly ignored the little bevy of Red Coats arguing with colonists by the old state house. A few more minutes and they’d start shooting again. They did this every day and she just ignored it. It wasn’t like anyone else saw them, anyway. Turning the corner, she changed the music playing through her headphones and stopped to wait for the cross signal. That was when the strange woman grabbed her by the shoulders.
“Please, Miss, you have to help me. There…there was this light and I have no notion what’s happened to me. Everything is…changed. The city…the buildings. I don’t understand. Please, Miss.”
Sarah pulled her headphones off and looked the woman over. The dress was probably 18th century. A colonist then, or an early American. Straddling that line, at least. And not a reenactor. Admittedly, their outfits were very accurate, but there were little details you couldn’t fake. Like handwoven pre-industrial revolution cloth.
“You’re dead. Go into the light or whatever. And leave me alone.”
The young woman gasped and covered her mouth with her small hands.
“No!”
She looked all around her now, eyes wide and clearly alarmed. Then she started to cry. Sarah sighed. She certainly hadn’t meant to make the ghost-girl cry, but she also just didn’t want to deal with this on a public street again. Pulling her headphones back on, Sarah decided to just ignore the histrionics. Maybe one of the other ghosts would take her in hand, give her the guide book and all that. Then the light changed and Sarah moved to take a step forward. She slammed into the strange girl and they both fell to the ground. With a strangled noise of surprise, Sarah got to her feet and stared at the woman.
“You’re…you’re not… Oh shit.”

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