The Ghost That Keeps the Records
A memoir written from inside the unfinished. A man in his forties, in an apartment on the 13th floor, sits with the wreckage of a marriage, a business, and a love that arrived and left in the same breath. The Ghost is the part of him that has kept records of every grievance for twenty years. The book is what happens when he stops trying to exorcise it and starts trying to live alongside it.
This is not a book about arrival. The Ghost is still in the room at the end. What has changed is the writer's relationship to the records being kept.
There is a guitar cable on the floor at the foot of my chair. Black. Coiled the way I dropped it the last time I played, which must have been more than a year ago now. It looks like a dead reptile. I never moved it. It's still there.
Abhijeet Chauhan lives in India. He writes, plays music, and takes photographs. His other work is at abhijeetchauhan.com.
