“…however, when the wagon rounded the bend, the freshly painted, beautifully restored covered bridge was not at all where the trio of travelers’ eyes fell.
The blood drained fully from Lady Harper’s face, and Lord Harper’s breath caught in his throat. Behind them, atop the burlap tarps, Ms. Anderson fainted dead away, almost falling over the edge of the cart entirely.
In the middle of the road, but above it by the height of a full-grown man, there hovered an apparition. But no apparition about which had ever been written in books or whispered in dim firelight.
It was translucent, but colorful. Colorful is a poor word to describe it, however. Light shone from with it, light from a spectrum never before seen by human eyes. The colors that composed this ghostly being were not from this world.
It was formless, and yet constantly changing shape. It was amoeba. Medusa. Jellyfish.
As the couple stared, mouths agape, faces ashen, Lord Harper was vaguely aware of the sound of snoring coming from behind them. And then, the protoplasm looked at them. It smiled at them.”