I was looking for living accommodations in a strange city. I briefly visited a house, walked back out onto the street, and pulled out a map of the streets. I tried to locate the street name which I saw on the corner of a building, but it was dark here and I was having difficulty locating the street on the map.
The entire area seemed devoid of color. Only varying shades of black and white could be seen, and I was in a dark area. Not far away I could see a lighter area where I could probably read my map better, but instead of going there I returned inside the house where I had just been.
In short order I found myself in a type of basement apartment of the house talking with an old woman. We were speaking French and were discussing the price of the rooms. The place seemed adequate for my needs; if I lived there I would have my own kitchen. The woman quoted me a monthly price which seemed reasonable. She then said something about "quatre jours" but I didn't catch the meaning at first. Finally I realized she had quoted me another price for four days. I quickly calculated and realized the four day price was quite a bit cheaper than the monthly price. I thought if I took the rooms I wouldn't mention the difference to the old woman and just take the four day price.
Another woman marched into the room. The second woman was portly and probably in her 50s – perhaps 20 years younger than the first woman. I immediately realized the second woman was in charge and that if I dealt with anyone concerning the rooms it would have to be her. But I had the distinct impression she was in no hurry to rent the rooms. I proceeded to explain to her that the older woman and I had been discussing the price. I felt the older woman, after having had the opportunity to talk with me, had accepted me. I realized I would now have to win the approval of the younger woman.
My hair was shoulder length and I had started growing a beard. I thought that might cause some concern in the woman's eyes and knew I would have to deal with that. The length of my hair had bothered me some before but I was beginning to see some purpose in its length and I felt good about it.
The woman began talking about the rooms and about former boarders. She said something about monks and seemed to expect some kind of response from me. I said, "I am a monk."
The words had fallen with force from my mouth. I wasn't accustomed to telling people I was a monk, but I knew it was true and I felt tranquil about simply telling the woman the truth. It was a simple, direct statement about my nature.
The woman seemed satisfied with my answer and I could almost see her questions about my long hair fade away. But she obviously wanted to know more and continuing talking. Finally she asked me about my "drinkage." I wasn't entirely sure what she meant at first but she made it clear she wanted to know my feelings about alcohol. I squirmed slightly and then said, "I'm an alki."
I was a bit surprised by what I had said. I didn't remember having ever told anyone such a thing, but I seemed to have made a realization which had been ripening for some time. The truth had finally come to fruition and it seemed best to simply speak the truth. I continued, "I am an alcoholic. But I do not drink. At least I have not drunk for five months."
I thought of telling her more, for example how I hadn't drunk alcohol for six months before the last time I drank five months ago, but that didn't seem relevant and I didn't mention it. Again the woman seemed satisfied by my response.
We were standing in the kitchen and the woman was turning something in a large metal pan. I finally realized it was a large hunk of meat she was cooking, but it didn't particularly bother me.
Meanwhile I was having some questions about the house and the rooms I was thinking of renting. I looked at the woman and said, "There seems to be something very strange about this house. Are there any ghosts here?"
The woman avoided my question and instead acted as if she were answering some other question. I said, "I would like for you to answer my first question."
She quietly responded, "If there are, there have been at least two people who have seen them."
Obviously I had hit the nail on the head. The place was inhabited by ghosts. I became more determined to live here. I knew it would be risky but I thought associating with a ghost could be beneficial. The woman seemed to have her doubts whether I could do it. She implied it would take a great deal of strength. I knew some weaknesses were in my character, but I felt I was still strong enough to handle the encounter. I said, "I can take the strain. It would probably be good to temper my will."
My words seemed to be very precise. The word "good" especially echoed in my mind. Was it going to be "good" to encounter ghosts? Was that really the proper way to describe it? I began to wonder what the ghost would be like. I felt a cascade of images which appeared somewhat like an animated cartoon in my mind. I vaguely seemed to see a shadow of a hand raising a hatchet and somehow had the feeling the ghost in the house was of a young woman who had been murdered.
Copyright 2005 by luciddreamer2k@gmail.com
