Our Regular Guest

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“Every Wednesday night at exactly 2:23 I hear our regular guest coming in through the sliding backdoor. She then proceeds to count my mother’s inherited collection of nine china plates in a soft and slow, almost humming voice: Oonee…Twooo…Threee… When she has counted up to plate number nine she stands silent for a moment and then sighs and hangs her head. It’s almost as if she’s looking for a tenth plate. She then kind of jerks and twitches her head and shoulders in a very peculiar manner for a few seconds. She seems to have some uncontrollable tick, but it only manifests after the counting of plates. It’s a bit scary.

In the beginning I used to ask if I could help her with something, anything, but she just turns around in silence and smiles before leaving through the backdoor again. A very large smile that almost reaches from ear to ear. After a while I decided to just let her be and give a friendly smile back. She’s odd, but seems friendly.

Her appearance is one I have never really seen before. She hunches over slightly which makes her very long hair, that she wears loose, often cover her eyes. Her skin is very pale and has a hint of the color indigo to it. She wears an all white layered kimono tight together with a large sash around her waist; an attire you don’t see in everyday life. I think it might be an heirloom stemming from a long gone era. To be honest I believe she wears it as a nightgown and I’ve come to suspect she might actually be sleepwalking. I once read one shouldn’t disturb a sleepwalker, so I just watch her in silence.

The thing about her that I find very strange though is that she always leaves her sandals (that also look kind of ancient) at the backdoor, but it almost looks like she doesn’t have feet. Her kimono looks like it’s translucent at the bottom, but even stranger; it seems as if she’s floating just above the floor…

Our regular guest is a very strange lady indeed.”

An attempt at writing a short ghost story. I borrowed a small element from the famous ghost story of Okiku. 

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Author: Rudy Faber

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