Sta.sh
Seller's Market
by ~RummelhartWe had to sell the house because of a ghost.
The ghost girl had been pretty quiet of late. But when I went to the San Diego Comicon in the summer of 2003, I forgot to tell her I'd be out of town.
You really can't just go off and leave a kid without telling her. She got upset.
When I called home the second night I was gone, Nearest said she was knocking on the wall in the northwest corner of the front room. She wasn't crying like she used to but she was acting abandoned again.
I told Nearest to hold the phone up, and I told her I'd be back within the week. She quieted down after that.
Nearest didn't say anything else about her during the evening contact calls. But when I dragged my suitcases through the back door the next day, the house was much colder than it usually was in the summer. A cold draft whispered through the kitchen. I looked out the window but not a leaf was moving.
Nearest said, "I'm glad you got back today. I almost stayed in a motel last night."
He'd awakened at 6:00 am the morning before. The kitchen was full of early sunlight. Our big red long-haired tabby, Sammi, was lying like the Sphinx on the floor, blinking in the sun, forelegs stretched out before him. Above him, the ghost girl stood in what looked like a flowered dress, a small round hat, and white thread gloves. She was bent over, her right hand describing weak petting motions in the air.
Nearest said she looked two-dimensional, like a cardboard cutout. The clothes reminded him of photos of funeral clothes from the 1940's. The ones the bodies wore. She wasn't frightening, but he didn't want to see her again. Or anything else that muttered or glided around that house late at night.
It was a good market. The house was sold and we were moved and gone by September.
She came with us.
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Gary Watts
"Building a Better World, One Giant Atomic Robot at a Time."
[link]
Skype: garybwatts
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What I want on my tombstone: "The Slut Used Duct Tape"
My brain in a jar: www.donnabarr.blogspot.com
My life in a saucepan: [link]
Come to think of it, though, I haven't heard from "Frank" in a while. He used to announce his presence with a B-movie groan. It was hilarious. I miss him.
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Moved to ~onemeanmotherfokker Please add there.
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What I want on my tombstone: "The Slut Used Duct Tape"
My brain in a jar: www.donnabarr.blogspot.com
My life in a saucepan: [link]
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Moved to ~onemeanmotherfokker Please add there.
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What I want on my tombstone: "The Slut Used Duct Tape"
My brain in a jar: www.donnabarr.blogspot.com
My life in a saucepan: [link]
Can get us into trouble from time to time. ROFL.
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Moved to ~onemeanmotherfokker Please add there.
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What I want on my tombstone: "The Slut Used Duct Tape"
My brain in a jar: www.donnabarr.blogspot.com
My life in a saucepan: [link]
It's all grist for the mill here. I should sit in the local diner and just listen. Muwhahaa.
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Moved to ~onemeanmotherfokker Please add there.