Brighton MEGA-zine Issue 2 August 2014 | Page 16

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The Home in the Wwoods

I’m 263. I disguise myself as Black Widow. I am immortal. My face has looked the same all my life and my face looks the age of a 13 year old. It is as white as snow. I live in a Norwegian forest, and I walk through the woods every day. What’s that you ask? What am I? I am a Ghost!

This morning it is half past five and I slither along on my walking stroll. Nothing has changed, or so I thought, the snow is there; the sun is up... but wait what’s this. This is outrageous, someone thinks they can just walk in this forest and dump a house in the best spot. I doubt the owners are awake so maybe it is payback time, time to cause some mischief. Muhahahahahah!

I walked sedately like a turtle. Creeping to the door, anxious of who is inside and more importantly what will I do to them? I take a quick glance through the window to observe if anyone is awake. The stove was burning so someone was up but no one was in sight. Oh no I exclaimed, I have dropped my lip balm in the gutter! “What’s that racket” cried a man, I ducked, “Get off my lawn you filthy animal. I cowered away in fear. Thinking about this incident I wondered who the man was. The voice seemed familiar like someone I had met before. But no it couldn’t be, I have not interacted with a living person in two and a half centuries, unless, no but it couldn’t be... my father!