Work Text:
Snow gently blew across Bannerman Road, starkly contrasting the jet black sky. Luke stood at the window of number 13, armed with a camera.
According to Clyde, a ghost appeared in the street the day before. Mr Smith didn’t find anything wrong. Nobody recognised what Clyde was talking about, not even Sarah Jane.
He stared for hours, waiting for the phantom to arrive. He was used to the headlights of a car passing by, the sound of a cat yelping, even the chill of the wind when he opened the window. But soon, he felt that Clyde’s ghost didn’t exist.