Dimmed bloglights or not, I thought this one was too good to pass up.
A couple years ago, I had just finished moving into my current place and decided to take a break in my favorite rocking recliner. I closed my eyes, and just before drifting off had the odd sensation that the chair was rocking gently, almost imperceptibly, as though by an unseen hand. This happened a few more times during the following weeks, and only occasionally after that. It's a rare occurrence now.
At the time, I decided I had a ghost. An old lady, I thought, who had taken it upon herself to rock me to sleep, like a baby. I never actually saw or heard anything; this was just what my mind put together for reasons of its own. But it's a very old house in a neighborhood that's been around for well over 100 years, so ghosts certainly aren't out of the question.
Last Saturday, I happened to meet a woman who lived here years ago, and we spent some time comparing notes on the many idiosyncrasies of this old house. Then, suddenly, she asked the question that answered the question I hadn't even thought to ask.
"So, have you met the lady yet?"
Yes, actually. I believe I have.
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