Sunday, March 1, 2009

One more ghost story...

I have one other ghost story from my small e-mail-based writing group. One member, Bob Legleitner, was older than the rest of us and one sad morning we had a message from his neighbour to say that he had passed away.

That night, I grieved for Bob until I fell asleep - and then I woke up to a bright light shining in my face from the foot of the bed. It was near-blinding, but I could just make out that it was mounted to a white miner's helmet worn by a tall slim figure dressed in a white shirt and jeans. Why I thought knowing the time might calm my terror I couldn't say, but I turned to my digital clock and read '6:66'. That was it for me: I was sure it was the devil himself. I fought to get up out of the bed and woke up in the process, but I was still so upset the the next day I told my mystery-writing group about it.

Mary, they said, amused. The devil wouldn't wear white. And don't you remember the story Bob wrote with '666' in the title? It was part of a street address. I didn't remember the story - that was one I'd never read - but everything made sense then. Bob was tall and slim and had a macabre sense of humour. Scaring me out of my socks just to let me know it was all right, that he was okay, was just what I should have expected from him. Over the next few days several more members of our group had some form of contact with Bob, awake or asleep, and while we still miss him very much, it was a comfort to know he cared enough to say goodbye.

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