After a hot steamy shower, upon my bathroom mirror, these words were writ.
“Please Free Me”
But from where had the writing come?
I had this creepy feeling in every nerve and bone that I was not alone,
standing there, watching the words as they faded.
”Are you here . . .beside me? . . .
Who, Why, the questions every journalist asks . .
and to find the answers, was one of the tasks
I needed to do before this day was done.
It has All been refurbished,
the Real Estate lady had told us.
New wiring, new plumbing;
but it was the design that had sold us.
My mind was spinning with the words
she had said, for beside me stood
a ghost ! . . .not dead.
There was no form , the mirror had dried,
but a ghost I knew was someone who had died,
yet still lived, With business undone
in a house as old as this one.
With sudden inspiration, I turned the shower back on
with those fancy fangled faucets
and steam soon filled the room.
” Thank You” soon appeared,
Not a scary Ghost had written this,
but a polite and pleading one.
“Please tell me why you have come?”
I asked ,and these words appeared.
“Because you were instructed, were you not?”
I gasped as I comprehended!
“It must be written by someone who
Can Do it, for I cannot;
Many must know so I can be free
of this eternal existence.
Many read, where you write. Do they not?
Seeing as I am Not able to tell why
I was killed trying to
save my husband’s life.
Ah the weight of those words
Fair made me faint, but I could not stay
long in that steamy place and told my
Ghost the reason why
”But you can feel it when I touch your heart
”she wrote”when I touch it with my hand,
can you not? Yes, oh Yes I could.
The ’How’ I never understood ; ’Then’
or even ’Now’ this ghostly gift. But it
was real and I could feel it
Inside the county’s Newspaper office
I Was reassured that every page of every
issue for the past fifty years was on Mico-fiche
I felt so clever For thinking of this
Before I realized I had forgotten the most
important question WHEN.
In defeat, I headed for the car, my Ghost squeezing my heart not comprehending I turned to explain and the smoke of my breath on the frosty winter air made me aware of how hasty I had been in giving up so soon.
Only a fumble in my hand bag to retrieve my compact to powder my nose and the little mirror contained therein.
It only took a minute before I could breathe on it and soon we were reading the story written forty years ago.
” Mrs Anna Johnson was shot in the back while running away from the scene where her husband had died from multiple stab wounds that had left blood all over the kitchen and the phone that was left hanging, where he died.
”I thought it was the intruder he told the operator who had stabbed him and told her to send help quick” said Sheriff's Deputy Jim Nickson, who was suspended for killing Mrs. Jonson until the Coroner's report was filed.
The story went on my Ghost reading over my shoulder
Til I became a little bolder and told her not to squeeze me so tight.
I cried that night as I tried to write it all down the best I could.
How she had been in the barn and when she saw him, ran to get help from a neighbor. I will not belabor you with the gory details
She was a righteous woman and good; and I hope she is freed as you read this post, my reviewers and friends