A Ghostly Apparition
It was one of those nights that makes you long for the Summer. Pitch black, freezing cold and so misty you could barely see your outstretched hand. Yet it was only five o’clock that miserable November night.
I was gazing out of my bedroom window, elbows propped on the sill with my head cupped in my hands. I had become mesmerised by the orange glow cascading from the street lamps and the shimmering halos that surrounded them.
It was difficult to see much out there. The fog was swirling around the rooftops, obscuring the detail of the houses. Occasionally, however, there would be a lull in the mist and I could see, for a few seconds at least, to the field at the end of my street.
I peered at the nothingness towards the alley, which led from the end house to the fields. Suddenly the mist cleared and I saw the figure of a man slumped against the wall of the last house. Immediately the fog returned and he was gone. My eyes strained as I tried to focus again on the spot. A few seconds passed then he re-appeared, I hadn’t imagined it, he wore a coat with a tall collar and a hat pulled down over his face. Once again the figure dissolved into the night. I sat bolt upright. The next time the fog cleared, I saw two more shapes, they were dragging the man towards a lamppost. I’d seen enough. I rushed downstairs to tell Dad.
“Dad” I yelled, “there’s something going on down the street”
I described what I’d seen and my Dad went outside and walked down towards the alley. I slipped out into the garden and watched him vanish into the mist. I stood there trembling, heart racing.
A few seconds passed then I heard my Dad’s voice.
“Who’s there? “ He called. “What’s going on?”
“Penny for the Guy mister?”
