Ghosts of many kinds, those who stand and stare. Then like a whisper it isn't there. Those who float upon the ground, drifting silently without a sound. The ones that tap you on the shoulder to say I was once a no good life withholder. Those of Ectoplasm, who would have them. The slimy remains, rotten out brains, the slime on the walls to say that they came.
The best are those who whisper in your ear, I am your lover, nobody else will dire come near, my dear. Then a tingle in the air, as hairs stood erect on your neck. A face of beauty, awe and wonder, humbled your fixed stare. Your attention totally taken by something that might well have not been there. Yet it was so real and perfect, way beyond compare. As the entity floated away, a white, sparkling light flicked. It was like ectoplasm, but many times purer.
The hours floated effortlessly by in the lonely old house, by the meandering stream and he felt so uneasy as the clock ticked towards supper time. The clocked clicked and he jumped as it chimed a little louder than he remembered. The windows rattled with lightest of breezes and he felt a slight knock at his knees. The tea in the cup seemed to swirl without any effort. Then a strange figure suddenly appeared from out of the floor, ever so quick, he froze, could not make for the door. A crooked finger pointed at him.
'Leave my wife alone!!'
Then disappeared almost as quickly as it had come. He sat there at the edge of his seat, not quite breathing. He almost wheezed, but the sound did not come out. His had was shaking so much that he had to put the cup and saucer down and as he did so, nearly spilt it all over his lap. He sat looking down at his cheese and crackers and wondered if the had bought it on.
The time seemed to pass in a trice and he never knew how he got to bed that night. He lay there half asleep, restlessly fidgeting, a cold sweat ran down his whole body. He looked nervously up at the flickering light. A whisper came from the part open door and he tried to shout 'Go away...' , but nought came out. The wind from his open mouth seemed to rush forth and collide with the figures head. As the whisper reached his face, it cried 'No my love, I'm the one who never died!'
'But !! your a.... !!'
Then he rubbed his eyes in disbelief.
In the next split second, like talcum powder it settled slowly to the ground. He dared not get up and walk to where he had seen it for the risk of disturbing it once more. He did not fall asleep easily, his mind turned to counting ghosts. When he had finished one set of ten he started a different type of imaginary ghost, until he finally drifted off.
Me had all sorts of strange dreams, one was of a little boy calling to him. It was as though from a far away land, an echo that got fainter. Each millionth of a second was like a heartbeat exploding. His ear, in his mind straining with every fibre to hear the faint, little voice, almost crying. Then his mind turned to fright as the boy's face zoomed, almost at warp speed towards him, The face changing, flickering for a slit second, then changing again. From a young boy to a teenager, then a young man, older and older, until a skeleton, then back to a baby and back again. Then the face was as a cloud, drifting slowly by. The silvery lining and the orangey, red silhouette adorning it, like a dress being dragged along the ground.
Then his mind's eye closed for a shortest of time and when it opened again he saw a beautiful summers day. The buttered bun was shining, so high in the sky, to melt the hearts of all that sauntered by. His breath as a breeze, as he saw beneath the weeping willow tree, a couple entwined, a step from a sleepy river, meandering by. Then he could hear thunder, like a giant snoring in the distance and woke up, strolled to the window without rousing himself and realised that it was a fine morning out.
The day came and went and he thought nothing of his dreams, but a part of it was in a different realm. Nothing was quite as it seemed as he cruised into his local bar that day, He ordered his meal and a drink, but little did he think that the spirit who had haunted him, would find him there that day. He ate and he drank and drank some more, until the barman's back was turned. Then the glass slid slowly away from him, he moved it back, again and again, until the barman turned to face him. He looked bemused for he saw nobody in sight, but as he glanced across the barman said 'you enjoying it sir?' He nodded in appreciation and carried on.. Then as the barman turned away to serve some other folk her bodiless head showed up. He smiled almost snarling, his steely eyes said 'Go AWAY!!'
Her long eyelashes flickered, revealing her deep green eyes and her long, jet black hair seemed to wave at him from the freeze that came from the doorway. Then for an instance he was hypnotised by her. Perhaps a siren, a dangerous woman from away land. She spoke to him almost as in telepathy and he to her... She smiled politely and 'Nice to meet you again my lover'
'But your not my lover, I met your other half and he told me to leave you alone'
'Other half, what is other half?, my dearest answer me!!'
'You know, lover, husband!!'
'Lover aaaaah, Husband mmmm,,, Its been a long time since I've heard those words my love'
His ears pinned back, his eyes dilated, a whisper of astonishment came into his mind.. 'Why Me?'
'Because you remind me of him, your kind, wise and a real human being..'
A cold smile came through him as he looked down at his glass wondering if it was all an act of his imagination. He ordered a whisky and sipped a dram, staring into thin air or not as the case may be? He paused, pondering for a while and thought 'Was I once yours?'
A ghost of an old girlfriend perhaps?, but if reminded him not of anybody who me had ever known. Then as he finished his dram the spirits were gone...Then he relaxed, thanked the barman and never looked back. His heart between the devil and the deep blue sea, he made his way home and wondered what belonged to him? His mind, body, heart and very soul?
As he got home, he sat there sipping a hot cup of frothy milk, he wondered what other dreams or aberrations he would experience? It was a quiet night and the days and nights seemed to come and go with air a' sound, nor a peep. Then one stormy summers night as he flung the windows open, wide open and laid on his bed, the thunder rumbled and the lightening flashed. As the storm cleared away and he looked out of the open windows the rain was still coming down in torrents. Raining cats and dogs, on that still night, after the storm had abated he suddenly felt a warm breeze from behind him. He slowly turned his head to see two shadows on the back wall. His smile of gladness turned to one of sorrow as he stood there watching what seemed like a lovers quarrel. Like the wagging of a finger and the bowings of heads. But as he thought about moving towards them they receded, as though they were never there!!
Day came and with every movement of shadow in the landscape he could imagine them. Yet he knew not who they were lovers or enemies. He was grasping at strews for he could only guess the magnitude of feeling between the two combatants. He thought and hoped that it was a lovers tryst, of one so young, never to be kissed. Then one so mature and so bold, to have and to hold. 'But who and why in this house?'
Like the opposite of the little child in his dreams each night as he watched the figure got more vivid. The outline, then a little colour, the body, the faces a little fuller. Like an old movie it replayed every night, but in the end he was in for a fright. As in a start she quickly looked around at him..
'My lover, My liege command me as you please!!'
'Love the one of your true heart and be not here, for I have no other half...'
She looked to the other figure and held its hand.
Then a whisper of whispers. 'But you love me?'
There came no answer!!, a hushed silence in the air.
'Beg leave me a reminder that you where here!!'
He reached out with his mind and told her, her scarf would be her sign. He felt a breeze around his neck and then in the next breath, told her he did not give a heck. Her spirit hastily looked around and realised that they where both underground. Her lover and her where not really there, but the immortal chain was never declared.
As he looked down at the scarf around his neck, she beckoned to him and pointed to her ring finger. Almost a tear in her sad eyes, as she held the other figures hand.
'This Tom, My only man!'
'That's what I meant by your other half...'
'Aaaah we be entwined, we be...' and go down on one knee
In the shadow of the early morn, just before the break of dawn, they three made forth, all forlorn.. Yet what was in their hearts was so special as he left them beneath the old oak tree. He gave them an old ring that he wore, to remember him by. Then as he looked out of the
window on that next night, a full moon, shone so bright. He saw two figures slowly disappear as the clouds drew near. The pale moonlight's curtain disappeared.
As he sat at breakfast, he made plans to travel that day. Yet before he set off, he visited the old oak tree and to his amazement, he saw what reminded him of the two lovers entwined, holding hands, with rings around their hands.
With his nap sack over his shoulder and the scarf of remembrance around his neck he set off to be the old man of the mountains. Years later outside the old house there grew three proud oak trees.
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