Ready for another ghost story? I heard this one in high school.
It happened to a girl in my high school class. A friend of hers told me the story. I wasn’t friends with the girl herself — a short, timid brunette — but saw her around school all the time.
It’s time for a ghost story. And a real one, to boot. At least, as it was told to me by a friend from Brooklyn. Names are left out to protect the people involved.
In my friend’s mind, this story is 100% true, since it happened to her. You can read it and decide for yourself.
Ever get a phone call from a ghost?
A friend of a friend did. True story. Here’s what happened.
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I think we can all agree that sometimes, it’s important to prepare for the worst. Part of any good preparation plan includes scenario building. From those various scenarios can come any number of solutions.
So it was with this judicious safety research in mind that my cousins and I embarked on the critical scenario building of what we’d do if the world was full of zombies. Such are the in-depth discussions that brew out of a belly full of Thanksgiving turkey.
More…
“Hey stupidhead, that’s my cup of latte!” Leslie shouts.
The guy looks down at the latte, snorts, and takes a gulp. “I don’t see your name on it,” he huffs. Fuming, Leslie starts to wave her hands through the air.
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A March 7th issue of The Onion was lying on the kitchen table next to a pile of newspapers. Gemini, whose hippie parents obviously named her during a drug-induced haze of sensibility, flipped through the paper. She sipped her coffee and turned to the horoscopes.
“Ah, Gemini,” she said to herself. Which, obviously, was her horoscope. Damn those hippie parents.
Her horoscope read:
In a tragic twist of fate, you’ll be overwhelmed this week by both a sense of fear and a pack of wolves.
“Doctor! Doctor!”
A torrent of tiny bangs shuddered the door. Zach leaned up and tried to focus on the clock. 3:00AM.
“Doctor! Doctor!”
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“You know how you get an automatic A if one of your roommates commits suicide?”
Sandy frowned. “That’s morbid, Sally. Don’t say that.”
“You’re the one who’d need it.” Sally snapped her gum. “Didn’t you get a D in your last midterm?”
“No… an F…”
“See!”
Woofer, the 170 pound Irish Wolfhound, backed his new owners to the couch and to their amazement, began speaking.
“Listen folks, this is how it’s going to be…”
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“Eat your brussel sprouts, Jimmy,” his mother said. “They’ll make you grow big and strong, just like the Hulk.”
Jimmy frowned and pecked his brussel sprouts. He didn’t like how they tasted, but he knew his mother was right. Mother was always right.
Weekly random rambles, musings and writings from a life observer, idealistic realist & aspiring writer.
