GHOST WRITERS ~ A GHOST Story by René AllenWritten For Pam Brittain - WWE, 12/4/13, Ghost Writers
It was as if he walked right out of the ethereal grounds of history, as I sat upon my bed. And I saw him glide through my front door. Although, frantically (in the interior of his soul), he was running. He quietly kept turning his head from left to right in quick succinct movements. He was searching for his bearings. Or maybe he was trying to figure out the way home, or out, or somewhere -- other than where he had been. Yes, I have to say, he was running...he was lost...and I was watching.
Watching silently. Observing with reserved interest, because I had never seen anything like it. I didn’t hear the doorbell ring, and I didn’t hear him knocking. But he came into my home nevertheless. Quietly, he walked right on in. Right through the front door as if it were not there. Then he proceeded through the living room, and then he entered into my bedroom right before my very eyes. And, I saw him clearly, as translucent as he was, he still was clearly seen. Tattered pants, striped shirt, and no shoes.
It didn’t matter to him though. I don’t think that he saw me. In fact, I know he didn’t see me, because he didn’t break his stride. He kept right on walking past me. Even though he was close enough to me from where I sat -- at the edge -- on the side of my bed -- to reach out and touch him if I so desired. But I didn’t.
It was like watching a silent movie that had started playing without me pushing a play button, and without me buying a ticket. The movie was playing before my eyes, with a male Star that had no name -- no beginning -- and no end.
Doors and walls were no barrier to him. They meant nothing. Those strongholds could not stop him, nor deter him. Because he was girded, and he kept right on walking -- briskly -- without missing a beat. He came in and walked through, and walked out.
Into my life, out of my life, and gone. Just like that.
But a funny thing happened. The male Star with no name left an impression on my psyche. I can still see him in my mind. I can still feel the silent movie playing. Was he a ghost? Was he a spirit? Was he a timeless soul? Was he still walking around somewhere in another space and time. Or is he still just as he was before he walked into my life, and out of my life?
I decided not to think too hard on it. Not to burden my mind with it. After all, He was just one of many walking around in a realm that selected ones can see. I just happened to be selected at the point in time that he decided to appear.
Have I seen him since? No. Have I seen others? Yes.
Will I ever tell the stories of the others? Only God knows.
by René Allen
© Copyright - René Allen - December 25th, 2013
All Rights Reserved