Should he wear the chain mail or not? It was heavy and today looked like being the warmest day of the summer. It would be sure to irritate the rash around his severed neck. On the other hand, he knew he looked resplendent in it. His huge sword in one hand and his head tucked neatly under the other arm was a sight worth seeing and also one that today’s punters would be expecting.
Mind you, things weren’t what they used to be. Once the mere sound of his chain mail scratching on the narrow walls, as he floated through the castle, would have been enough to terrorise any audience, but not now. Nowadays people ignored his wailing as they took photos of him on their mobile phones. Only yesterday he’d been forced into posing for a selfie alongside two pimple-faced teenagers.
As he slipped on the suit of mail he wondered if the Ghosts and Spectres Society had given any more thought to his request for a transfer. A small mansion house, in the middle of nowhere, with very few visitors, would suit him nicely.
A short story for Sunday Photo Fiction.