Ghost Story?

My son likes ghost shows.  Zane remembers religiously that a certain ghost show comes on over the weekend, and he starts asking about it Friday afternoon, like clockwork.  We can no longer pretend that the show isn't on, because he catches us when we are hurriedly trying to flip through the channel. Some aspects of the shows are a little odd, and we discuss that, but we always emphasize that the show is entertainment. 

I am not necessarily an unbeliever when it comes to the paranormal.  Too many things have happened to me over the years for me to say that ghosts don't exist. If, as some scientists claim, everything is made of energy, then perhaps some energies linger here after death.   I am not so arrogant as to believe that I know all there is to know about our world. 

Zane's asked several times if our house is haunted, in hopes of inviting ghost hunting folks over.  He's a social child; I guess that he wants to introduce the ghost hunting folks to the people from Finding Bigfoot?  Alas, our house was built over non-Native American burial grounds, and no one else has lived in the house besides us.  No person has died in our house, and only two beloved pets.  We do not live near power lines, nor have any electromagnetic anomalies, such as loose wires, which might cause a person to experience symptoms of a haunting.

Except...

One night, as I passed by Zane's room, I heard him talking.  It was late, he was supposed to be asleep.  I stuck my head in his room to check.  He was talking in his sleep.  I smiled, and was about to head to my own bed, when I caught Zane's next sentence.

"Where did they hide your body?"

I froze, the hairs on my entire body standing straight up.   What?  What?  I waited there in the dark, shivering, but Zane got the answer he wanted, and he rolled over and was quiet.  I went to bed.

But I was awake, in the darkness, for a long time.


I'm hanging with Mamakat this Thursday for her Writer's Workshop.  Stop by and visit!
5. Write about a time you thought there was a ghost.

Waiting for the Believers

Constance sat at the window in the dusty attic, watching the road.  She had been waiting there since Tuesday, but she had had nothing else to do.  The sun was just above the tree tops when the first car appeared.

"They're here!" she clapped her hands in delight, her joy infectious.  "They're HERE!"

Anticipation spread through the house like another contagion. From a second floor bedroom, Prudence twirled and leapt from bed to creaking bed.  The old rocking chair near the fireplace began to sway as Grandma hurriedly grabbed at her knitting.  Carolina ran from her room on the first floor, down the hall to the stairs and back, singing off key on purpose.  Paw began banging on the floorboards from the basement, just like he always did when he was disturbed.

"Calm down, everyone!  You'll wear yourselves out before they even get through the door!"   Patience sat in the breakfast nook, nervously fidgeting, while a stray dog barked loudly outside to herald the arrival of company.  She stared at the recently unlocked back door.  Patience could hear the narrator speaking from the back porch.

"Tonight's episode of Ghosts Galore will be spent in the Carver House, said to be haunted by the spirits of an entire family.  Sounds spooky! Are you ready to meet them?  We are!"

Patience stood, smiling, as the first paranormal investigator walked into the house.  A lady with a camera and long blonde hair politely smiled back, and Patience vanished. It wasn't much of a manifestation, but it was enough.  It was going to be a long night, but it just might be worth it this time.  If they made enough noise this time, maybe their house would be saved.

The startled scream brought the rest of the visitors into the house, cameras rolling.



The prompts are the words "anticipation" and "leap".  I was inspired to write this while sitting with my son watching another rousing episode of My Ghost Story: Caught on Camera.  That is currently one of his favorite shows. I have no idea why, except that his kindergarten class has been studying the Holy Ghost for the past couple of weeks. 

I Once Dreamt Of Being A Photographer

I got a new camera for my birthday.  Consequently, I've become a photograph-shooting fool.  So when we passed the abandoned wreckage of a house in Glen Rose, I made my husband and son sit in the air conditioning of the car while I took photos of the place.

I don't know anything about this house, except that it was there, it looked abandoned, and it probably burned down.  Which made me a little sad.  Someone obviously cared enough to spend hours creating the designs on the walls. 

While I was taking my pictures, various stories about the people who might have lived there went spinning through my head.  A man lovingly creating a house to bring his bride home, only to burn it down when she spurns his advances; an old couple living out their days, until one night their home burned down with them asleep inside.

I have a vivid imagination, but it's rare that an abandoned building is unusual enough to trigger such ruminations.  Plus, I got that "if I turn around really fast there will be a ghost standing behind me" vibe during my fifteen minutes looking about.  Many abandoned places seem alive with stories, just waiting to be told. 

This shot made me think of a fort in the Old West.

Maybe this small window was stained glass?

I think these are cedar logs, along with limestone rocks, but I'm certainly not an expert.

I just thought that this looked cool.

It's a shame that such a meticulously crafted home should be left empty and abandoned.   I made sure to say "Thank you" to the air around the house before I walked back to the car. 

Are there places in your world that seem alive with stories?