My ghost story

It was a bit of a tease when I said “There will always be ghosts,” so let me elaborate.

I can’t guarantee that my story will clarify anything but I must try.

Some nearly 50 years ago I was settling into a sweet apartment in an old New York walk-up. I wandered into the bedroom. I immediately sensed a presence.

Now, I am not especially susceptible to the spiritual. In fact, I have a level-headed appreciation for the rational. I have alwsys endeavored, however, to be open-minded. I was even more so in those days.

I hedge my bets against a greater power by labeling myself an agnostic. Who knows? There may well have been a specter inhabiting 5A. He (and his gender was determined) walked about as I turned on the floor lamp.

I spoke aloud to my cohabitant, asking him to enjoy our mutual space. I also suggested that I would not interfere with his activities as long as he left me to my own.

After this, no flickering light would ever disturb me again.

He did not reappear. But his proximity on that first night was palpable. We met and remained friendly at a distance.

In the next 40 years, I modernized the space to suit me. My phantasma voiced no objection.

I mentioned him to noone. My discretion was rewarded as my friend never troubled me during the long length of my tenancy.

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