Wednesday's Words on a Friday

The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually taken over by a moveable feast of participants when Delores had computer troubles.

The aim of the words is to encourage us to write, a story, a poem, whatever comes to mind.
If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please let us know so we can come along and read it.

This month the words are supplied by Cindi and can be found here.

This week's words are:

1. forgotten
2. sorrow
3. rustling
4. darkness
5. unbroken
6. window

and/or:

1. perched
2. grim
3. beast
4. soul
5. disaster
6. ominous

Here is my story:

 Standing in the near darkness, looking at the one unbroken window of the derelict old house as the setting sun was reflected in it. Behind her, the ocean and its long pier were suddenly bathed in deep gold. A single caw drew her attention to the lone crow perched on the ridge of the roof. 

A breeze stirred the air, rustling the dry leaves of the oak tree, leaves that had already begun to fall whispered their way to the ground. She shivered as the air grew colder, forgetting momentarily that she was now dead and shouldn't feel anything, but being dead was still so new. 

The day had begun so innocently, walking along the sand, listening to the brass band playing in the town square, deciding to climb up for a closer look at the burnt out farmhouse. Wanting to see inside, having no sense of the disaster about to befall her. 

Starting up the stairs until she realised they went nowhere,  the upper floor having fallen as it burnt, she turned to go down again and her boot caught in a cracked step. She tumbled, head over heels to the floor, knocking her head on the flagstone floor. Just a little knock, surely that couldn't have killed her? 

Her sorrow as she stumbled to her feet, seeing her body still lying on the floor, as if forgotten. Glancing at the now ominous shadows inside the house, wondering if the grim reaper, that beast from hell, was coming for her soul. But nothing stirred and as she stepped back outside to look again at the house which was now her grave, she noticed her boots no longer echoed on the flagstone floor.

She wondered how soon someone might miss her and come searching. She had told no one where she was going this morning. Would anyone be able to see her now that she was a ghost? Did she still hold onto her soul? Or was that gone too?