Happy Hallowe’en. Do You Believe In Ghosts?

“Mom, we’re renovating the old theatre, and, well…I think…”

“There is a ghost there.” I finished my son’s sentence. “Yes. He’s quite famous.”

“Really? I’m all alone here, in the basement, and I’m getting creeped out.”

“His name is Ambrose Small, and he’s been hanging around for quite a few years, so I’m pretty sure he’s harmless. I remember being in a meeting in the basement there once, and we heard him.”

“This is not helpful, Mom.”

“Look him up. It’s a big mystery. Maybe if you’re nice to him, he’ll fill you in on the story.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. My son is 6’3″ and strong as an ox. He’s also a grown man. Somehow, he wasn’t finding it funny.

The renovation, however, went off without a hitch.

(For Reena’s Xploration Challenge: Do you believe in ghosts?; and Eugi’s Weekly Prompt: Hallowe’en)

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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

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