Ghost Stories

Mrs Major and the Nutcase - Part 10 of 10

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Mrs Major and the Nutcase

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Family Matters

As if to emphasize that my period of contemplation of Eden Atara Goldman's letter was finished, the doorbell started to ring. The new doorbell was one of those electronic types that can be programmed to practically play a symphony when the button was pushed. Stan the ass-grabber had set it to play Roy Orbison's Pretty Women. I still was trying to grasp that I was a pretty woman these days, it was almost as strange as living with a ghost.

Mrs Major and the Nutcase - Part 9 of 10

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Mrs Major and the Nutcase

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All Brides Are Virgins, Aren't They?

Arising on a fine Saturday morning to find my love had already claimed the bathroom, I contemplated the day ahead. Vonda had warned me to dress comfortably in something simple and to wear comfortable shoes. She had been shopping with her mother before and knew how to prepare.

Mrs Major and the Nutcase - Part 7 of 10

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Mrs Major and the Nutcase

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History At Home

We decided that the afternoon should be spent in quiet activities in deference to my puncture. I unearthed one of the multi-sided die left from my D&D days to decide which room would start our explorations. It came up at the parlour, so we removed the dust covers, did a quick vacuum and looked at the bookshelves that were on one wall.

Mrs Major and the Nutcase - Part 4 of 10

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Mrs Major and the Nutcase

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Tuesday: Surrender to the Inevitable

I awoke again to the screech of brakes, followed closely by a mumbled and indistinct "What was that?"

Mumbled because Vonda was no more awake than I was, indistinct because my ears, accompanied by my head, were nestled in her breasts, of which there was considerable to nestle in.

Mrs Major and the Nutcase - Part 3 of 10

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Mrs Major and the Nutcase

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Is There A Doctor In The House?

As much as I wanted to watch the roofing crew at work, I was getting concerned about the swelling and itching in my chest. Allergy? Some weird virus? Cancer? It's easy to psych yourself out over something like that, especially when all this other shit was happening.

Mrs Major and the Nutcase - Part 2 of 10

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Mrs Major and the Nutcase

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The Questions

I stood naked beside the bed, still holding my wet towel. What the hell was going on around here?
 

I wouldn't go so far as to call myself a skeptic, but haunted houses were things you found in movies, not in real life. Point one: I was the only one in the place. Counterpoint one: I had left the door open, not to mention the windows.

Mrs Major and the Nutcase - Part 1 of 10

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Mrs Major and the Nutcase

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The Backstory

I'm going to start with a confession: I'm a nutcase.

Don't believe me? Just ask any of my friends and they'll be happy to go into excruciating detail.

Mrs Major and the Nutcase

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Mrs Major and the Nutcase

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As a confirmed skeptic, I have never understood why anyone would actually believe in ghosts and goblins. Likewise horror movies leave me cold - how could anybody be so stupid as to do the dumb things that get you killed in those movies?

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