The wind is moaning as it blows through the patio.
I’m sitting at the computer located in the room next to that patio. It’s my favorite of the two spots where I do my writing. The curtains are drawn but just enough light filters through so I don’t have to turn on any lamps.
The dim, shadow-filled room coupled with the sound of the wind sharpens my sensitivity. My inner connection opens wide, ebbing and flowing, pulsing with the sound.
Today I hear ghosts. Low moaning ones. Sometimes only one or two. Other times, what seem to be great hordes of wailing spirits. Shrieking.
I break out in goosebumps from head to toe. I feel creeped-out. It’s a feeling I’ve had more than a few times.
Why? Oh yes, I remember why.
Ghosts have stories to offer. I know, for I have written them after previous encounters just like today.
I wonder. What will they bring me this time? Scary stuff, I’m sure. Hopefully not so scary that I awaken from nightmares and run screaming from the apartment.
The restless shades of the departed are all around.
One story I see has multiple souls caught in some kind of negative spiral or something. Other ones include graveyards, piers, and deep forests. All seem to have fog involved. It figures…fog is creepy. Oh, and a big train that appears in my back yard. I wonder how that works since I live in an apartment.
These are just preliminary thoughts and I’m already somewhat spooked.
Golly, that wind really sounds scary!