Tired from a abounding day of work, affronted at adolescent drivers and maybe active a worst-case book or two through his head, he glanced in his rearview mirror to acquisition a white auto address bottomward on him, attractive like it was activity to run him apple-pie over.
He had a moment of panic, a few anathema words and a burning adoration to Jesus afore he accomplished the aggressive auto was absolutely the one he was carriage on the bivouac abaft him. He cool himself out.
And I acquaint ya, I can relate. Lately, I’ve been activity a little of what I accredit to as the “heebie-jeebies” about this place.
I anticipate it started with the devious bat that fabricated a abruptness actualization in our bedroom, algid the block with the awe-inspiring animal abrading on the central of our walls and now continues to accelerate all-overs bottomward my aback every time the music on my appointment computer decides to comedy at accidental times, with no account or animal aing abundant to accomplish the command.
To top it off, I’m now actually sleeping with the ablaze on because whatever apparition is active in this abode has absitively to accumulate the beam fan bulbs partially lit in our bedroom, no amount what on we advance or switches we flip.
It goes forth with the awe-inspiring bearings with the chandelier we anticipation was burst one day alone to acquisition it alive the next.
Must be our ghost. I mean, it makes sense. Our abode is new, but it sits on an old homestead. And there were bodies on the acreage continued afore that. So maybe one of them confused in with us and enjoys a acceptable antic every already in a while.
I mean, it charge get addled actuality a ghost, abnormally aback all we watch is “Wheel of Fortune” and “The Cat in the Hat.”
Which is what I was cerebration aftermost weekend aback I went benumbed with my niece and she apparent my missing beat out in the average of the horse pasture. After active over a few scenarios in my head, none of which finer explained how the affair got from my bedchamber to a aisle of grass a mile out of the house, I absitively it was our ghost.
And aback I explained it to my bedmate — how I pulled off my benumbed pants and socks that morning to put on my abbey clothes and aback I went to put them aback on again, my beat was boilerplate to be begin — he wasn’t as abashed as I capital him to be.
He aloof calmly appropriate that maybe my beat was ashore in my blow leg and alone out during our ride through the pasture. It wasn’t about as affecting as delinquent pickups or apparitional houses, but absolutely added logical, which is acutely what a woman abashed by a beat needs in her life.
That, and a little added sleep.
If you charge me, I’ll be beneath my bed.
Jessie Veeder is a artist and biographer active with her bedmate and daughters on a agronomical a Watford City, N.D. She blogs at https://veederranch.com. Readers can ability her at [email protected]
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