My sister visited shortly after I moved to this house, and she couldn’t sleep in her assigned bedroom because of the ghost who lives there. I don’t know if she actually saw the spirit of a woman or if it was a waking dream, but my sister swore it was true and spent her nights on the couch in the living room.
When I was dealing with a bum knee and couldn’t walk, I slept in that bedroom. It was just so much easier getting in and out of the high daybed. There were chairs and such to hang on to as I hobbled to the bathroom. And I didn’t have to deal with making the bed every morning. I spent a hundred hours at night in that room, as well as the thousand of waking hours (since the room is set up as an office with a daybed), and I never got a glimpse or even a feel of a restless spirit. Except my own, of course, and to be honest, it’s not that restless. Being a quasi-hermit seems to agree with me.
The ghostly roommate referred to in the title of this post is even more nebulous than a revenant. He uses this address, either by accident or design, though he doesn’t get the mail that is sent here. Nor has he ever lived here.
I sometimes get mail for the previous resident, though that mail is the throwaway kind — advertisements that he in no way is interested in since he is deceased. I also sometimes get an occasional Christmas card or flyer for the people who lived here before that. But no one knows who this ghost roommate is.
The mail I get for this phantom is current, such as a debit card for food stamps or a People magazine. Since I get the mail as soon as it comes, there is no way he can be fraudulently using my address to get his mail, taking it from my mailbox when I’m not around. I’ve told the postal workers about it, and they tell me they’ll take care of it, but I still get the People magazine occasionally when a substitute deliverer is on duty.
The odd thing is, although not everyone in town knows everyone, everyone will know someone who knows those they don’t know. But no one knows who this fellow is.
Apparently, he really is a ghost.
Since he is a nonentity, I figure he wouldn’t mind if I read the magazine he isn’t getting. And that adds a whole other layer to the mystery. Who are the people who appear in that magazine? I’ve seldom heard any of them, and if a name is familiar, I certainly don’t care what they are wearing, if they are happily living an unroyal life, or if they are back together with some ex-wife.
Still, it’s reading material, and I read anything that crosses my threshold. I wonder if I should just toss the magazine instead of returning it to the post office. If the magazine isn’t forwarded to the fellow, maybe he’ll get the message that he sends his mail to the wrong address.
Or not. Maybe he prefers to befuddle me with his ghostly presence.
“I am Bob, the Right Hand of God. As part of the galactic renewal program, God has accepted an offer from a development company on the planet Xerxes to turn Earth into a theme park. Not even God can stop progress, but to tell the truth, He’s glad of the change. He’s never been satisfied with Earth. For one thing, there are too many humans on it. He’s decided to eliminate anyone who isn’t nice, and because He’s God, He knows who you are; you can’t talk your way out of it as you humans normally do.”
Click here to buy Bob, The Right Hand of God.