E is for Emma

You were only created because your scribbler wanted to try out writing in second person. Your Name is Emma is perhaps the most neglected of all her Works in Progress. You haunt an independent coffee house, aware that too many of these are disappearing. You were murdered, perhaps by a vampire who didn’t bother to romance you before draining you dry. The only one who can see or speak to you is your ex-girlfriend, Esther. Or you like to think of her as your ex-girlfriend. She might disagree. She’s still angry at the way you treated her. The only ones aware of you are the Soul Collectors whom are hunting you; monsters whom have the worst qualities of door to door saiesmen. They keep coming for you. They won’t stop until they’ve collected your soul, whatever is left of it. You can’t even smell the coffee you loved in life, let alone taste it, even though you’re haunted by the memory of it. Not unless you possess a living person, a tricky process. As afterlives go, you’re hating yours. Your only hope of changing yours is doing something about those lingering regrets which keep you hanging on, but how can you do that, when you can do so little?