NaraMoore ⛩️👻八尺様👻⛩️ at Fedi<p><strong><a href="https://sakurajima.moe/tags/TimeTravelingGhost" class="mention hashtag" rel="nofollow noopener" target="_blank">#<span>TimeTravelingGhost</span></a> Part 19: Episode 2: 1937: The Hindenburg Part D</strong></p><p><strong><a href="https://sakurajima.moe/tags/Wss633" class="mention hashtag" rel="nofollow noopener" target="_blank">#<span>Wss633</span></a> & <a href="https://sakurajima.moe/tags/TimeTravelAuthors" class="mention hashtag" rel="nofollow noopener" target="_blank">#<span>TimeTravelAuthors</span></a> 7/11 Romance/love triangle?</strong></p><p>“The Hindenburg,” I repeated. “And that’s not your sister, but you?”</p><p>I took a sip of my Champagne cocktail while I put my thoughts in order. I savored the taste to settle my mind. The drink was simple but elegant, not quite up to the ones at the Folies Bergère. There, they rimmed the glass with vibrantly colored sugar crystals and poured with flair. This had been served politely, without fanfare. That kind of flourish would have clashed with the quiet elegance of the Hindenburg. It was a fine drink, fitting for the airship. </p><p>Emily stared at me. “You drank that?”</p><p>“Yes, try yours. It is quite good.”</p><p>“No, you’re a ghost and you drank that!”</p><p>I hadn’t thought about it, but I couldn’t remember any stories about ghosts drinking. Didn’t Buddhists even make a big deal out of how some ghosts drank and ate but could never feel nourished? That must relate to why I stayed inebriated for so short a time. The first part, not the bit about the hungry ghosts. I found the light fizz and warmth of the drink very satisfying.</p><p>I shrugged in reply. “So it seems.”</p><p>“And your clothes, they aren’t very appropriate.”</p><p>True, they were 21st-century casual: jeans and a short brown sweater dress. They must have passed as a costume at the Folies Bergère. I imagined myself in a dress matching Emily’s and wah lah I was in period attire. I <strong><a href="https://sakurajima.moe/tags/add" class="mention hashtag" rel="nofollow noopener" target="_blank">#<span>add</span></a></strong>(ed) a black pearl necklace for flair.</p><p>“Don’t do that!” Emily hissed. “You’re putting on a spectacle.”</p><p>“My bad.” She was right, of course. Doing things like that where I could be seen wasn’t clever. “This ghost thing is all new to me.”</p><p>“I’m new to ghosting and even I know that was stupid,” she added.</p><p>I’d wished for a travel companion, and I guessed Emily Pang was it. Not that she was romance material. Heavens, no. I like other women that way, but sharp-tongued women never appealed to me. Besides, she wasn’t even my type. I would just help her and then ask her if she wanted to do some traveling. That’s all.</p><p><a href="https://sakurajima.moe/tags/TootFiction" class="mention hashtag" rel="nofollow noopener" target="_blank">#<span>TootFiction</span></a> <a href="https://sakurajima.moe/tags/Serial" class="mention hashtag" rel="nofollow noopener" target="_blank">#<span>Serial</span></a> <a href="https://sakurajima.moe/tags/NMPrompts" class="mention hashtag" rel="nofollow noopener" target="_blank">#<span>NMPrompts</span></a> <a href="https://sakurajima.moe/tags/NMTTA" class="mention hashtag" rel="nofollow noopener" target="_blank">#<span>NMTTA</span></a> <a href="https://sakurajima.moe/tags/NMV633" class="mention hashtag" rel="nofollow noopener" target="_blank">#<span>NMV633</span></a></p>