by Michelle Davis
You read the words I write, nodding in agreement - understanding the scenario. You finish the final word and wonder, how could she know? At the same time, you feel smug in your knowledge of me... seeing my pain or my joy first-hand, whatever the case may be. So we converse... chatting back and forth... while you become even more comfortable in your smugness. I hate to break it to you though; man, you don’t know shit. Words, it’s all you have... all you will ever have because I am a ghost writer, and I never let anyone see me.
Michelle Davis disappears from time to time - like smoke in the air - but she always returns to her first love: writing.