Someone in the flat

A recent visit from a great friend of ours Lisa Cleary Thurlow was interesting because of a one off the cuff remark about her previous experiences with spirits, specifically spirits in her home, so I’m not sure about all this afterlife thing, I as a child read at mass quite a bit before waking up one day and thinking things through, my dad wasn’t so pleased with the big change, especially the big change in all those velvet lain baskets. It turned out i have little time for religion based on faith and results in a power struggle which eventually creates conflict, which isn’t exactly Christian.

The idea of individuals somewhere in ether helping our souls find a place seems lost on me when you replace the word ‘place’ with ‘Tsunami’ – coincidently no divine intervention at these times, no Christianity in a president ignoring a predominantly black ward and it’s washed away remains.

But like everyone else I’ve stared at my phone sometimes and the person you think of rings! I had also heard a while back or maybe I read it somewhere that dogs can sense stuff we don’t! Well I suppose they can’t sing or speak so this surely makes up for it having the visions they do, I’m sure Cesar Milan would agree.

Lisa and her comment which was basically “yeah that’s probably my grandmother” came when we had Harry over to stay for a few days, he started rumbling and barking at Lisas handbag on the couch and she was immediate and explained that she believes her passed grandmother minds her bag for her and Harry is probably barking at herself.

Later in the evening as we tried to sleep he came into our bed room eventually after refusing for a good while and took his time to settle down but after a while started grumbling and barking at the corner of our room, barking at where the bookshelf is, like staring into space, very strange.

I think he seen something
I keep waking seeing things myself, rubbing the black sleep out of my eyes and quickly realising it’s a shadow cast by the door, the moving hissing traffic outside on the street or those others upstairs traipsing across wooden floors in wooden heels. Fright, shifting sleep and murmur nightmare, the dog Harry was right!


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