Back from the Dead!

“Want to come round to my place?” I asked Mick.

“Are you going to play Nurse Maid and take care of me?” he said with a hopeful look in his eyes.

“I can’t promise that, but at least you’ll have some company, for the weekend anyway.”

“I won’t be in the way will I?” he asked, more to Pete that me.

“No, we’re not an item, I’m just helping her out with something, you won’t be in the way.” Pete replied.

“There’s something weird going on isn’t there!”

“You know me Mick, always something going on.” I said and reached out my hand to him. “Come on, let’s get away from here.”

Mick made to stand, but took a deep breath and sat back down quickly.

“Ribs?” Pete asked.

“Yea, I’m sore!”

Pete put his arm around Mick, helping spread the weight, and we walked slowly back to the car. The field was emptying as the patients were taken elsewhere by ambulance.

“This could have been a lot worse,” I said, my voice breaking as I spoke. Pete just nodded.

“I hope some one is going to tell me what the hells going on,” Mick said, “because you obviously aren’t telling me everything.”

“When we get to my place,”

No one spoke as Pete drove us home. As we approached Richmond we heard loud music, the noise of the fair. Fire, I’ll teach you to burn!

Pete looked at me, “Not really the music I want to hear right now.”

“I heard that just before the explosion!” Mick piped up. “Unless I was hallucinating. It’s the Crazy World of Arthur Brown, isn’t it? Weird trippy music! Don’t like it much.”

As soon as I walked into my apartment I felt it. Exactly what “it” was I couldn’t explain, I just felt something.

Mick shivered, “It’s chilly in here, is there a window open?”

I walked into my bedroom, which was even colder. No windows open though. I gazed across to the market square, where the evening fun was in full swing. A ghostly haze hung over the town. Or was it my imagination?

“Do you guys want tea, or something stronger?”

“Something stronger!” They said in unison.

“OK, I need to pop down to the Off License. Anything in particular?”

“Maybe a six-pack of Special Brew and some Brandy.” Pete said, and Mick agreed. It had been a hell of a day.

They both gave me some money. “Fish and Chips too, I haven’t eaten today. I’m bloody starving.” Mick said.

I hesitated at the door.

Should I tell them how I felt about my apartment? Did they feel anything? Would they be okay?

Then I continued down the stairs. I wouldn’t be gone that long.

I stepped outside into a cloud of cigarette smoke, motorcycle fumes with a little leather mixed in. It was intoxicating.

Ohhh, I heard it through the Grapevine.

Marvin Gaye beckoned me and I turned and walked towards the fair.

The he sound of a motorcycle close by tantalized me. I could barely breathe.

I’m coming, wait for me!

Bells jingled with every step I made. Bells that decorated the hem of a gypsy skirt. The noise was coming from me. The smoking man appeared at the end of the street. Handsome and cool. He leaned against the wall, a crooked smile on his face. He lit another cigarette and blew smoke into the air. Without hesitation I ran towards him and fell into his arms. Nothing else in the whole world mattered. I was back with my love!

“Johnny,” I whispered, “I’ve waited so long.”

I climbed onto the back of his motorbike and we wound our way through the fair.

Richmond, North Yorkshire, steeped in history and Ghosts! A perfect setting for any story. Dortmund, Germany has a few stories too. Visit Amazon and buy my first eBook for $0.99 at Dead of July.

Falling in Love with a Ghost?

I was overpowered by feelings I didn’t understand. My head was too heavy for my neck. I swayed a little. From nowhere a strong hand grabbed my arm steadying me, keeping me upright. Nothing felt real. Slowly I turned my head. A masculine hand, almost hidden by shabby black leather, rested on my arm. I almost swooned so strong were my emotions. It had to be him; it had to be the smoking man. Weakly I reached out wanting to hold on and make him stay. His presence was intoxicating. Before I could feel my skin against his, he was gone.

A cold breeze kissed my cheek.

“Hey, what’s up, are you OK?

I turned around to see the solitary figure of Pete, one of my old boyfriends, walking down the narrow deserted street towards me.

“Not really! Something weird just happened.”

“Have you been at the cannabis again?” he asked, a look of genuine concern on his face.

“No, I don’t do that anymore.” Now I was irritated.

“Sorry, you just look really out of it. I tell you what, if you buy me a drink and I’ll lend you an ear?” he said with a big grin on his semi-handsome face. I say semi-handsome because he was irresistible when he smiled, but plain as a pikestaff when he didn’t. He was smiling as he approached so I couldn’t refuse. He took my arm and linked it in his.

“How about Brandy and sofa?” He said.

At least he made me smile, “lets skip the sofa shall we? I’ll take a Brandy and Coke instead. Who’s sofa are you drinking Brandy on these days?” I asked.

“That would be telling!”

“Oh, so she’s married?”

“Come on you’re the one with problems, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I stopped walking and looked at Pete, I hadn’t thought about that. Was I falling in love with a ghost?

This installment is long overdue, but I’ve been traveling and gathering ideas for my books. Clearing my mind of all the thoughts that got stuck there this year and making room for fresh ones. I think it worked. I’m raring to go. Don’t give up on me, I’ve plenty more stories to tell.

Check out my first novel Dead of July. Its only $0.99 on Amazon.

http://amzn.to/1aXh4Md