Lately, there’s been some very leggy ghosts around our home. Really, I mean it. That’s all they’re showing. From animals to well, human animal ghosts, they’re showing me their legs.
It can be disconcerting when you see tiny little legs running at you and realize it’s not even a spider but rather some sort of little brownish-tan dog, I hope. Then there’s the case for the tall slender legs walking quickly down the hall towards me. And not only that, but on New Years Eve, a man parking outside our house would have been totally surprised by the teenager who kept circling his car. Bet the teenage ghost was going at least five miles an hour.
Why are they doing this now? I don’t know. I didn’t ask but I’m sure they have their reasons. As I’ve mentioned before people, and animals alike, on the other side have minds of their own and can think, well, sort of rationally most of the time. Really they don’t have to show any of their body. Legs are fine.
My minister father quit coming to our home because of a ghost who appeared in nice overalls, plaid shirt but he left his head at home. And my father, calling up stairs, had the audacity to think it might have been my stepmother. Bet you know he didn’t live that one down for a while. Problem was, he didn’t even tell me he saw the ghost even though I knew he did and questioned him. He waited until he got back home and told my little brother. That’s when he also told him that he wouldn’t make a trip to our home anymore. And he didn’t, at that house. Guess I forgot to mention that ghosts visit wherever I am.
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