It's Wednesday, so it must be blog day. I seem to have become a once every other day blogger. Oh well, I'm trying to keep them coming regularly, so let's see if a pattern develops.
Yes, anyway. Haunted. I've never especially believed in that sort of thing, though it's always interested me. In the last ten years, I've lived in three properties that have had, well, odd properties. I was in an old, rented place about ten years ago that was genuinely freaky (I'll write about that some other time).
I've lived at my current address for seven years. It's old - it was a NCO's quarters for the local barracks back in Napoleonic times. A cavalry officer's house. Since we moved in, we (ie me, my wife and my two kids) have all been aware at different times of a... well, a something that stands at the bottom of the third flight of stairs. You might call it a figure, I couldn't possibly comment. It's not scary, or alarming. It's just part of the house. I realised the other day that, rather than deciding we did believe in that sort of thing after all, it had just become a fact of life (or something). An unconscious acceptance. It's become quite matter of fact. "He was about again last night," my wife will mention at breakfast.
I'm sure there's a rational explanation. Ultrasound, they reckon, don't they? Or is it infrasound? An odd natural resonance?
I don't know. All I know is that in the last few weeks, it's become more active. I was lying in bed the other night - everyone else in the house was asleep - and the whatever it is was walking around on the landing. I could hear it quite clearly. It wasn't the neighbours, it wasn't the wind, it wasn't the pipes, it wasn't the cats, it wasn't one of the kids getting up in the night for a wee.
When it walked up to the door of our bedroom and stepped inside (the door was open), I thought about looking, but decided to roll over and ignore it instead. I wasn't quite ready to deal with the possibiities at that time of night.
So there you go. Do sleep well. Don't have nightmares.