Nine Ladies Dancing
A ghost story for Christmas.
First published: December 21, 2010.
On the third night I watched them. They danced among the stones, white wraiths writhing to an unknown song, silent in the dark. I looked from the high window and I counted nine: nine stones, nine ladies. Diaphanous, serpentine, they trailed their dresses in the long grass which did not move with them. As each passed before a sarsen I could see the stone behind them, through them. I looked out in wonder and horror, and clutched at my nightshirt as the cold air tugged it, encouraging me with dark intelligence to leave the room, to come out into the night. To cross the road to the circle and join the dance.