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Stan E Carr

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Member Since: Jun, 2009

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Ghost Traveler Tales
by Stan E Carr   

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Category: 

Relationships

Publisher:  KindleDirect Type: 
Pages: 

156

Copyright:  2014
Fiction

Do you believe in ghosts? For real! I do
and hereís why. I believe in God, angels, and a lot
of things I canít see. Do believe in thoughts, you
canít see them. How about your breath, you canít
see it, oh wait, go outside on a cold winterís day
and breathe. You can see your breath. So why
not ghosts?

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 What do ghosts look like, if we can see one? They might look like wavy mists or perhaps

a large cold breath. They are terrifying to most and some people have died of fright from
just seeing a ghost. Here are some descriptions I like to use.
As an invisible slimy mist and fog I slithered up the nostrils and into the brain, with my
hideous laugh only the brain could hear and understand. I meant no harm, which might
say. No, rubbing your nose will not ride you of me. Not even those sneeze. I have
complete control of you until; I decide to leave on my terms.
As a slimy invisible vapor I eased and penetrated the eyes. Scratch and rub as you might;
not even water will wash away the tears I bring. All the way into your brain, with a
hideous laugh, you are mine until I decide to leave.
As an icky, yucky invisible whisper I entered your ear and slithered into your brain. You
no longer control yourself, fool as you are, I control your every thought and memory,
letting out my hideous laugh as a dream to torment your mind, that is until I sneak away
in the dark.
As an orb, a ball of light I traveled; most did not what I was and some died of freight. In
more modern times, some took pictures of me, but none could identify or define me. I
would often hover, to please and excite their curious minds; then I would disappear as
quickly as I came. Slowing down and changing form, I took over their mind.
Have we seen orbs and thought them to be UFOs? That would explain a lot. Ghosts are
figments of your imagination or are they? Have ever been lost walking on a street and
out the house in front of you comes a man and for no real reason asks if he can help. A
ghost entered his mind and sent him on a mission. The ghost was summoned by your
mind’s worry. That happened to me.
Then there was the time I was driving and the man behind me, honked and we turned, he
came along side of me. We rolled our windows down and he told me I had a flat tire.
Ghost prompt in his mind or just coincidence?
If you have ever scratched your nose or eye in the night, a ghost may have entered your
brain. I cried out to my late wife about a thing that bothered that night, and later me
someone in a dream came to me and said, “It is in the safe deposit box, and I can see it.”
The next day, I went to the bank and one by one, pulled out the contents and closely
inspected the items. There in the wrong envelope was the item I sought. Strange,
without a doubt, ghost maybe.


Excerpt

The orb turns to a misty cloud. As an orb,
a ball of light I traveled; most did not what I
was and some died of freight. In more modern
times, some took pictures of me, but none
could identify or define me. I would often
hover, to please and excite their curious minds;
then I would disappear as quickly as I came.
Slowing down and changing form, I took over
their mind.
Look there is a man speaking, he looks
like royalty; letís listen in ďAll newborn of the
minority, shall be drowned.Ē Hearing that, I
came over and appeared before the mother and
convinced her to place her newborn son in a
wicker basket. I told her it would be better her
son be adopted, even if the adoption is by an
evil person, than to be drowned.
The mother did place her son in a wicker
basket and was set afloat in the river. The
wicker basket was fetched from the water by a
princess and again I convinced the minority
slave mother, to go plead with the princess to
allow the son be taken care of be her; since, the
princess was known not to have had a child and
besides the princess had better things to do than
raise a child.
Again, I was successful in convincing the
mother to do as I requested and her son was
kept from being drowned and was able to grow
and flourish.
The son went on; well you know the rest of the
story.
I report, you decide.




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