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A Ghost Story

This is all far too serious.  Time for a ghost story.  About a month ago, my wife was sewing in her room where women do things that are incomprehensible to men.  She heard a voice speaking in the kitchen, two rooms away, but I was the only other person in the house and I was in […]

This is all far too serious.  Time for a ghost story.  About a month ago, my wife was sewing in her room where women do things that are incomprehensible to men.  She heard a voice speaking in the kitchen, two rooms away, but I was the only other person in the house and I was in my study tapping out the latest vitriol about neocons.  I had said nothing, nor had the radio in the kitchen inadvertently switched itself on.  Last week, my wife was again esconced in her room that holds all the forbidden secrets when she heard footsteps in the bedroom over her head, clearly proceeding from one side of the room to the other.  Again, only she and I were in the house and I was in my ground floor study making things up about the American Enterprise Institute.  Before you ask, I will confirm that we have three dogs and two cats, all of whom were clustered around me in the study snoring, so they were not responsible for the sound.  I inspected the bedroom where the peregrination had taken place and found nothing.  I assumed that my wife was finally going crazy but this morning it was my turn.  I was deep in the internet trying to find out more about crimes allegedly committed by Michael Ledeen when I heard very clearly footsteps crossing the bedroom over my head.  I counted dogs and cats, all of whom were present, and went up to check.  Nothing.  Later this morning I went to the county records office.  My house is located in Virginia horse country and was built fifteen years ago.  We have been the only owners and there is no evidence that Jimmy Hoffa is buried in the basement as everyone knows that the Mafia has no presence in Loudoun County.  It was built on farmland and there is no record of any graveyard or Indian settlement anywhere near.  The original farmhouse of the farmer who tilled the land up until about twenty years ago is about a quarter of a mile away.  The experience has given me a strange feeling and I am wondering if I have been targeted by the neocons using some advanced technology.  I would like to hear from any other paleocons who have had similar experiences…

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