Not Afraid of Specters

He was reading the Daily Sprocket in the corner of the busy coffeehouse when Alma noticed him for the first time. She was seated a few tables over, enjoying a robust mocha and a muffin.

The letter lay in front of her, half written.

'Oh well', she thought, 'Wickford can wait a bit longer to hear my report.'

She'd been keeping an eye on the gent in the corner. There was a rucksack at his feet and she noted how his eyes would flick occasionally to the window, where his steamcycle was parked next to the lamp post outside.

That was when the ghost came out of the wall right behind him. As it passed through his body, he shook involuntarily. Then the apparition misted into nothingness and she watched the gent scan the room in confusion.

No one else saw the spirit. No one, except Alma who wore her Specter Spectacles at all times. Fortunately, they resembled common reading glasses. She observed the man get up and leave the coffeehouse. Obviously he was spooked but had no idea why.

Without drawing attention to herself, she flipped open a small compact, looking for all the world as if she were examining her reflection. She aimed it in the direction where the ghost evaporated initially.

Sure enough, the readings on the tiny display indicated the spirit's presence. With a tiny push of her thumb, she activated the Capture Mode.

Several patrons near her shivered as the ghost was suctioned into the "book" on her table.

Then the coffeehouse was back to normal, no one being the wiser.

Alma allowed a small smile as the little light on her Astral Apprehender turned from red to green. She slipped it into her reticule and gathered her things together.

As she left the establishment, she reflected how much easier ghost hunting had become. Progress was such a wonderful thing.