Q uestions and rarely a definitive answer: “Do you believe in ghosts, Mr. Jessome?”
“No, but I’m afraid of them.” Certainly not very original, I admit, but it does break the ice when the conversation turns to the paranormal.
Like many people, I sometimes feel compelled to look over my shoulder. And for no particular reason occasionally, when I’m alone in my car at night driving down a lonely stretch of road, a foreboding sweeps over me. It’s as if there were an invisible passenger seated beside me. I also fight the urge to glance in the rear-view mirror, afraid of what may be staring back.
Questions and more questions: “Explain, please, the puff of cold air that sweeps over my face when all the doors and windows are tightly closed. And explain away, if you can, the sickening odour of decaying flowers that wake me from a troubled sleep. And what is that standing at the foot of my bed?” I don’t know. But I’ve been there.
And still more questions. “How old is the ghost story?”
“Older than me and thee, my inquisitive friend. The ghost story predates literature. It belongs to a primordial world; perhaps even during its blackness.”
A word was brought to me in secret, and my ears heard a whisper of it.
It was during a nightmare when people are in deep sleep.
I was trembling with fear; all my bones were shaking.
A spirit glided past my face, and all the hair on my body stood on it,
The spirit stopped, but I could not see what it was...
From the book of Job. That’s how old the ghost story is.
One final question: Do you have a favourite ghost story? There are many. These are some of my favourites.
So, let the journey begin by turning the first page. Then read on, but do look over your shoulder from time to time.