Posted tagged ‘ghost stories’

Monday Smiles – Halloween 2011

October 31, 2011

So, it’s Halloween again. Last year on Halloween, I posted a story based on a real incident from my childhood for Top Sites Tuesday’s Spooky Story Theme.  It was a big hit and even garnered a request for a sequel. So, here it is again …. meet Uncle Will:

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We’re going to see Uncle Will tomorrow. I hated those words. Uncle Will was my father’s uncle, a disabled veteran. He lived in one of the ramshackle brick residential buildings at the Veteran’s Administration Hospital in Rocky Hill, Connecticut, which was about an hour’s drive from our house in East Haven. Visiting Uncle Will was worse than boring … it was creepy. His room was painted a pale institutional green but under the yellow light of the single incandescent bulb in the middle of the ceiling, it looked more like pea soup. The hallways smelled of hospital cooking, urine and disinfectant. His room added stale tobacco and an old man’s sweat to the mix. He’d be waiting for us in his wheelchair wearing khaki pants, scuffed military-issue shoes and an A-style undershirt, yellowed at the armpits. He’d force a smile when we walked in. Hi, Frank, he’d nod to my Dad. Hello, Florence, to my Mom. Who’s this big guy?, to me, every time, and I’d have to tell him, I’m Buddy. Frank’s son. As if he didn’t know. He’d extend a hand to shake, skeleton fingers covered with papery skin that I’d try to touch (more…)

Good Will Haunting

October 31, 2010

This post is a request.   Fellow blogger AY of Babble Break and her sons enjoyed my mostly-true Tuesday post Uncle Will so much that they requested another spooky story for Halloween.   So, Uncle Will is back for a Halloween visit.   You may be sorry you asked.

When I was fourteen … fourteen years three months, to be exact … I took a sudden interest in the contents of my father’s top dresser drawer.   It started simply enough.   Dad caught me smoking.    My Newport cigarettes, cleverly disguised in a Band-Aid box, went in the trash and the Zippo lighter I’d bought with 12 week’s allowance went in his dresser drawer.  I didn’t really like smoking all that much but the lighter was very cool with a dragon emblazoned on the side in red and black.    So, one Saturday night when I was baby-sitting my brother and sister, I decided I’d get it back.   And I discovered a treasure trove of my father’s keepsakes.    There were medals from the war and real bullets.   There was a (more…)

Uncle Will

October 26, 2010

We’re going to see Uncle Will tomorrow.  I hated those words.  Uncle Will was my father’s uncle, a disabled veteran.   He lived in one of the ramshackle brick residential buildings at the Veteran’s Administration Hospital in Rocky Hill, Connecticut, which was about an hour’s drive from our house in East Haven.   Visiting Uncle Will was worse than boring … it was creepy.   His room was painted a pale institutional green but under the yellow light of the single incandescent bulb in the middle of the ceiling, it looked more like pea soup.  The hallways smelled of hospital cooking, urine and disinfectant.    His room added stale tobacco and an old man’s sweat to the mix.   He’d be waiting for us in his wheelchair wearing khaki pants, scuffed military-issue shoes and an A-style undershirt, yellowed at the armpits.  He’d force a smile when we walked in.   Hi, Frank, he’d nod to my Dad.  Hello, Florence, to my Mom.  Who’s this big guy?, to me, every time, and I’d have to tell him, I’m Buddy.   Frank’s son.   As if he didn’t know.   He’d extend a hand to shake, skeleton fingers covered with papery skin that I’d try to touch (more…)