The Ghost of Benanee - Sex Stories

The Ghost of Benanee

... place has turned it to rubble. The childish dream we had of growing old together in a cottage at Olinda was a lovely thought, and to the world we would have just been two ex-army spinsters, growing rhododendrons into our dotage. And we would have been so happy. How I wish to see the towering gums dripping raindrops again, the smell of wet earthy freshness wakening my senses, the screech of cockatoos music to my ears.

I think I'll go and hunt some poor bunny.

===

"That's the last entry." Daz whispered and closed the diary. "Shit."

"That's so sad," Vicky said, sniffing. "Five years. All that crap in five years."

"Yeah. I knew it was bad from the newspapers. People just couldn't take it anymore and just walked away with nothing. I guess Clara did the same."

Vicky wiped her nose on the sleeve of her shirt and shook her head vigorously. "No, I don't think so. Ghosts are supposedly tied to a place because of trauma or something unresolved. If she had left, she wouldn't be here, would she?"

Daryl closed her eyes and furrowed her brow, trying to follow the logic. "I suppose so. Are you suggesting Clara went hunting and..."

"She didn't return is my guess. She felt this is her Purgatory and is stuck here."

"Oh. Crap... God, I hope you're wrong." She stood up and strode to her car. "Clara, I'm going to launch the small aircraft. If you are still here, and want us to find you, take control and lead us to you. Ok?"

"Clara's at the edge of clearing, Daz. It ...

... looks like she's waiting."

Daryl nodded and placed the drone clear of the scrub. She turned it on and stood back as it shook, then rose to head height and flew to the car. It hovered over the roof, wobbly circled, then slowly moved north.

"I think we're driving Vick. Jump in."

They followed the drone as it weaved its way through gaps in the vegetation. "Do you think this is where Harry and Clara's wheat field was, and the scrub's regrown?" asked Vicky.

"Dunno. I guess so. You wouldn't want to start work half a K from your house. That's a fair trip every day." Daryl picked her way through the gaps, one eye on the drone.

"There's one of those pink berry trees, Daz." Vicky said, pointing to a deep green tree. "Oh, that's where the drone's landed."

"I see some white rocks under it. Bet that's Harry." Daryl parked her car, and they approached what was definitely a grave. Large white chunks of limestone had been placed in a rectangle, and a small timber headstone rested against the gnarled trunk of the tree.

Vicky kneeled and closely examined the faded writing on the plaque.'Harry Lucas - D. 15/2/34.' She stood and dusted her knees. "Poor guy. I guess Clara planted this tree to shade him."

"Vick, over here."

Vicky hurried over to Daryl, who was kneeling under one of the few tall native trees in the surrounding mallee scrub. "She's here."

"Oh, no." Vick knelt beside her friend and tried to choke back her tears. A desiccated body leaned back against the ...