Bedroom Visitation?


I am two-thirds of my way through my novel, and editing as I blog. The installment of my German Ghost Story is below. If  anyone is following this story, please help me with a title. The talented Mike Brooker is about to work on my book Cover, which of course can not be finished without a title…..HELP!  Put your thinking caps on as you read.


I started feeling a little better with the world after shouting and cheering for the Italian team. It had been very therapeutic.

While Les got ready for bed I went in the kitchen and washed the glasses we had been using. I left them on draining board as usual and was about to put out the kitchen light and get ready for bed myself, when I heard something in the spare bedroom behind me.  I turned and opened the door, wondering if the stray cat from the other night had found its way in again. I didn’t see how it could, but cats had a way of doing the things you least expected.

Did the cat get in again?

The room was in complete darkness, apart from the light that fell through the doorway from the kitchen. Everything was silent again, nothing moved.  It must have been my imagination. I closed the door and turned around with the intention of drying the glasses I had just washed.  Now I did hear a noise, it was the sound of smashing glass. I froze as I watched both glasses topple off the draining board and into the sink.  How had that happened? I hadn’t left them anywhere near the edge of the draining board. Unless the house had tilted, there was nothing to make them move the way they did. I put my hand into the sink to pick up the glass and immediately cut myself. 

Glasses broken in the sink

“Dammit” I said.

Then I did hear something in the spare room. It was a very low quiet rumbling laugh.

I ran out of the kitchen as fast as I could. I ran right into Les, who was on his way into the kitchen to see what all the noise was about. I was glad he was home as this would not be a good night to be home alone!  We went back into the kitchen and cleaned the glass up.  Les helped me put a plaster on my bleeding thumb. Then we both stood in silence and looked at the door into the spare room.  Les wasn’t scared, but he knew I was.  We had been married for five years and although he had not witnessed any of my visitors in the physical form, he had seen strange things happen.

When we were on vacation once, a neighbor who had been house sitting for us, had run from our house terrified as all the doors in the house opened and then slammed shut whilst he was watering our plants (and looking through our record collection). Whilst living in that same house, dogs had crossed the road rather than walk past our front door. Pictures fell off walls if Les and I argued.  Neither Les or myself, had felt any evil or malevolence there, so whatever shared the house with use, liked us, or was looking out for us. We didn’t think that the ‘presence’ had followed us to Germany, but maybe it had. 

I continue to write and edit this novel, aiming for perfection. Check in with me on my Facebook Page or my Website. I would love to hear your views, comments, title ideas.


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