Welcome to my offering for The A to Z Blogging Challenge 2018.
My theme this year is Ghostly Inspirations:
a collection of spirits that have been prompted by my encounters with places and times. Some are spooky, some more about atmosphere. I'll be describing each inspiration and the phantom that came to my mind, and then I will share a drabble, which I hope will entertain. :)
Disclaimer: The places and experienced I have used for my inspiration are real, but my ghosts and drabbles are complete fiction, linked to nothing and no-one, alive or dead. When writing about my inspirations, I may have changed names and obfuscated specific details to 'protect the innocent' :).
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P is for (in) Passing
Inspiration:
Today, we’re off North of the Border for my inspiration. Edinburgh is a beautiful and ancient city. There are many old houses build with solid stone, and a friend of mine lived in a flat in one such old building. Her flat had wonderful high ceilings and a beautiful warm fire, but it is the stone steps up to her apartment that have inspired me today.
The stairwell of this set of flats had a bent old metal railing and each step showed the thousands, probably millions of footfalls that it had taken over the hundreds of years it had been conveying people up and down.
Ghost:
Today, we’re off North of the Border for my inspiration. Edinburgh is a beautiful and ancient city. There are many old houses build with solid stone, and a friend of mine lived in a flat in one such old building. Her flat had wonderful high ceilings and a beautiful warm fire, but it is the stone steps up to her apartment that have inspired me today.
The stairwell of this set of flats had a bent old metal railing and each step showed the thousands, probably millions of footfalls that it had taken over the hundreds of years it had been conveying people up and down.
These steps have witnessed much: desperate dashes down to greet long missed loved ones in the street; slow plods upwards with heavy shopping bags; secret creeps into the boudoir of a mistress; gaggles of friends heaving upwards towards the party; and also accidents, the old steps are uneven, it is easy to trip, and the solid stone is unforgiving.
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Watching
She is there. Not every day, not even every week, but sometimes. I never know when, not even when I come into the dark stairwell from the busy street. For when I look up, there is no hint of her presence.
Then I step upwards. One step, two step, ten and I turn, unsuspecting, at the slightly wider stair on the curve. I pass and she is there. Silent, staring, her eyes wide and sad, I have seen her out of the corner of my eye. Chilled, heart skipping, I trot the rest of the way, watched at each step.
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Then I step upwards. One step, two step, ten and I turn, unsuspecting, at the slightly wider stair on the curve. I pass and she is there. Silent, staring, her eyes wide and sad, I have seen her out of the corner of my eye. Chilled, heart skipping, I trot the rest of the way, watched at each step.
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Other paranormal and spooky stories by Sophie Duncan.
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I really like the short snippet. Although I don't know how long I'd last in a haunted house...
ReplyDeleteThe Multicolored Diary: Weird Things in Hungarian Folktales
You wouldn't want to go up those stairs late at night, would you? Shiver
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