Ghost

He was six foot five inches tall. He wore a hooded cloak. His arms were not visible and the same went for his legs. The cloth was fluttering without any wind to help it. He never moved. He stood. He was stationed on the sidewalk. The face was not distinct, but he did have a jagged jaw that protruded through the darkness. He was darker than the black of night. He gently whispered Samur Og Jafn, Samur Og Jafn. His battered voice sank into the speakers. Ricocheting off the panels. His purpose repeated nightly. His children would swarm around him screeching and snarling consuming everything in earshot. Each night he dug into me deeper and deeper. I talked to him through my mind. He did not like what I had to say and I haven't seen him since.

Dreamer

You can dream a little dream or you can live a little dream, I'd rather live it because dreamers always chase it but never get it. He knew what people thought but didn't care, because while they spread their rumors through the street he made another masterpiece. He never spoke a mutter of the spanning of his life. Until the day he leaned forward, grinned and said, look I've never had a dream in my life because a dream is what you want to do but still haven't pursued. I knew what I wanted to do and did it since day one.