Three elderly women's ghosts were whispering among themselves in one of the darkest, most deserted corners of the alley.
"I heard there's a girl who can see spirits," said one, her voice dry like fallen leaves.
"I know her," grumbled the second. "Mad as a hatter. I tried to ask her to pass a message to my son — she threw salt at me and chased me away."
"Kids these days have no compassion," added the third with a sigh.
As the ghosts gossiped with rising excitement about the girl who could see the dead, a blinding light suddenly appeared, cutting through the darkness like a blade. The glow was so intense they couldn't make out who — or what — was speaking. Then, a voice echoed from the light:
"Where can I find her?"
Startled, the ghosts fell silent for a moment. Then one answered, her voice shaky:
"At the end of the street by the big park… in the old red house."
As soon as the words left her lips, the light vanished — gone as suddenly as it had come.
The old ghosts turned to one another, wide-eyed.
"I thought that was it," said one. "Thought I'd finally be released and go to Heaven."
"I thought it was an angel," murmured another. "But why would an angel ask about that mad girl?"
"Maybe because she doesn't help lost souls like us," the third muttered.
Still mumbling, they drifted off into the darkness, their forms melting into shadow.