Searching for the Silver Lining to Horse Racing and Halloween

It is the race that stops the nation.

The Melbourne Cup Horse Race is the richest and perhaps the longest horse race in the world.

Held on the first Tuesday in November, in Melbourne Australia, almost every Australian participates in some way in a Melbourne Cup lunch and associated community “sweepstake,” – usually for the benefit of charity.

Melbourne Cup Day Events

If you live in Melbourne, Race Day is a public holiday. Excepting essential workers, everyone in Australia, no matter the location, downs tools and stops work completely at 2pm AEDST, to watch this two-mile-long horse race.

Everything comes to a standstill.

Whether you are in a shopping mall, speaking with a lawyer, or in a hospital waiting room, someone will rig up a TV or more often these days, cast their smartphone to the nearest TV set and gather to watch the race unfold.

Everyone gets into the spirit of the event, even if you are not usually a gambler.

Melbourne Cup Day Sweeps

Every workplace rigs up a makeshift sweepstake for Melbourne Cup day. This consists of small strips of paper printed with each participating horse’s name. One name is purchased and randomly selected by each sweep participant, for $1-$5. Then you watch the race to see if your horse wins. If it wins, you get a portion of the total prize money collected, or it gets donated to charity.

The event is an excuse to drink champagne with friends and party, although it is harder work for a horse. It’s a long race. If a horse happens to break down in the race, it is curtains for them and sometimes for the jockey. Horse racing is a dangerous sport.

There’s a gradual tide moving against horse racing generally, especially from the animal liberation and vegan thinkers of the world. I partly agree with their mantras, but in a country bereft of traditions, this is one community event that I do like to be involved in, for its collegial community spirit.

This contrasts and possibly conflicts with my attitude towards Halloween and the community antics detailed below, but the Melbourne Cup has the added benefits of supporting many sporting clubs, community groups and social clubs who use this race as an opportunity to fund-raise for their ongoing activities.

The Mount Mee Tennis club was one such group.

Melbourne Cup Race at Mount Mee

With a good dose of country hospitality and home-cooked food, my walking group attended the event a 40-minute drive west into the lush dairy country.

Not only were we entertained by a fashion parade, the local school children performed, sang and danced to a live audience other than their Mums and Dads! There were ticketed raffles with lovely prizes and the cup sweepstake complemented a delightful lunch and morning tea. All the funds went to aid the local tennis club. Fantastic.

Conviviality is a word that springs to mind. Civilised is another.

With more than 150 people in attendance, it’s a huge fundraiser for a small country town and micro-economy. One local proprietor had, prior to Covid, operated a fashion boutique in the town. She now operates in her home but has sorely missed the input of passing trade. The Melbourne Cup Lunch was a chance to showcase her products and bring in external sales. Many ladies purchased garments, me included. I enjoy supporting small businesses doing it tough post-Covid. Without the Cup Race day, I would never have encountered this shop.

That’s the silver lining to this horse race. If charitable horse racing events and gambling thereon are entirely banned, the knock-on implications to sporting and social clubs and community mental health are immeasurable.

Humane Horse Racing is viable. Isn’t it?

Halloween in Australia

Recapping my approach to Halloween, I was looking for the silver lining to this event.

How it played out:

The younger children wearing delightfully cute costumes were extremely well-behaved. It was indeed the convivial community atmosphere some of my readers had alluded to. The little ones had their Mums or Dads, in tow.

I was almost coming around to the positive side of the Halloween concept compared to my previous misgivings.

Apart from a few small children carrying such LARGE backpacks for their spoils. Not to mention one parent that pushed the boundaries trailing behind his progeny dragging an esky (read: chilly bin/cooler), on wheels, that I am pretty sure was NOT for holding beer.

There is always one in every crowd, I reminded myself.

After 7pm, the tone of the trick or treat mob significantly diminished.

The neighbourhood degenerated and not in the bestest way. In retrospect, I could have erected a notice like one neighbour saying – “Halloween free zone – No trick or treats!”

But I did not want to be that person.

In the same way that cane toads gather on the grass after a thunderstorm, teenagers gathered in groups on my front lawn. Busily filming TikTok segments or posting selfies to social media sites.

Why they chose my garden to do it, remains a mystery? There were no treats to be had at my house. Perhaps they were attracted by the darkness as my lights were out? {As had been advised in the community code if you are NOT participating in Halloween}.

It bemused ourselves to see teens posting video reels on their smartphones, with accompanying commentary such as, “Help. I have been abducted by aliens….” – and sarcastic me jokingly wishing they might be so lucky.

These Peter Jackson hopefuls never realised their clickbait claims might be questioned.

Why?

Little did they realise that in the background of their TikTok video was a semi-retired woman busily watering her Magnolia bushes. Yes! Probably not the most convincing look for a claim that aliens were holding them captive.

Not at all Alien Photo by Kha Ruxury on Pexels.com

The teenage antics continued amidst a backdrop of revving, throaty V8 engines and several motorbike riders with grunty, pimped-up exhausts. Hell-bent on impersonating Meatloaf from The Rocky Horror Picture Show, perhaps?

One resident, in the know, revealed on Meta that carloads of kids were being dropped off nearby. Word had gotten around. There were highly decorated houses worth a look, with potentially high-grade Halloween booty! Before long, there were screams and car-horns tooting to the melody of teenage panic.

A flock of 12 or more scantily clad females in black bikini tops and black bat wings attached to their backs, ran amok in the centre of my, usually quiet, street. I had to muster the strength to maintain concentration on my broccoli Quiché and salad dinner, as the noise and chaos sorely tested my resolve.

Perhaps the bikini girls’ costumes were mimicry of Van Helsing’s Angels of Death/aka bats?

Who knows if there was even a plan? The flock were manic, riding high on adrenaline. For a few tense moments, I thought one of them would indeed be hit by a car!

Vindication they were a bit crae-crae came when a twelve-year-old boy was disturbed enough by the sight of the Van Helsing flock of bikini-clad ‘bats’, he approached my door, saying he hoped I didn’t think he was associated with them. I didn’t.

Shortly after, I was bailed up just three steps outside the front door. And I was only making my way outside to dispose of our dinner’s detritus!

A contingent of 12-year-old Halloween hopefuls spotted an adult [me], emerging from a house holding a bucket. Executing a swift 90-degree turn into my yard, they sensed potential Halloween loot in the offering. Making a bee-line for me, bags extended out in front they were desperate for more sugary loot.

I was to prove a big disappointment.

Instead of ‘packing’ free lollies, I was ‘packing’ vegetable clippings – destined for my compost bin.

“I have only got carrot peelings, apple cores and a withered lettuce leaf – for the compost,” I explained, re-directing them next door. Surely they were too old to be chasing lollies, anyway?

One neighbour trying to settle her twins at the cranky hour had completely forgotten it was Halloween. Given Halloween is a relatively new tradition in Australia, they were just caught up parenting and wrote this on social media.

I rather liked her karmic approach:

We didn’t have time to run out and get any treats. Sorry! We had no decorations up and our front lights off. We received about 10 or so knocks on our door. Each one interrupting the hectic twin crazy routine. We were polite, patient, understanding and said sorry each time. Most took this well. A group of young boys of around 13/14 years of age including one quite tall boy were clearly annoyed that we didn’t have any treats. He swore or muttered something under his breath as I closed the door.

These boys proceeded to knock on our door and run away several times after this (maybe as pay back?) and then smeared some kind of yellow coloured sauce or something all down the side of our car we had parked out the front. You can imagine that it wasn’t a pleasant experience for me, my partner or our two [twin baby] girls who by this stage were over tired and having tantrums. So, many thanks to these boys. My wish for these boys is many, many toddler tantrums in your future. Oh, and that when you plan to start a family you end up with twins or triplets – you’ll have fun! ~ Facebook post

P.S. I didn’t win the Melbourne Cup Sweep, but it was fun. 💀👻☠️👌🏽

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Why You Shouldn’t Believe in Halloween

Following on from my recent Ghost Story, I didn’t grow up with the Halloween tradition and as such, I don’t feel the intense need to place a ‘ZOMBIE CROSSING,’ sign and plaster it in my front garden on October 31 each year.

Nor do I relish having an imprint of a hand on my door/window/car in red paint, simulating blood. And I definitely don’t walk around with a fake plastic axe emerging from each ear in the workplace. In fact, to my way of thinking many aspects of the Halloween festival, are just bizarre. Where did the obsession with the un-dead start?

How Did Zombies Originate?

Familiar search engines suggested Zombies were based in African folklore as a “spirit that is supposed to wander the earth to torment the living” – i.e. this explanation sounds a bit like what we might consider a ghost or paranormal occurrence here.

The Haitian tradition of Voodoo, involved Zombie beings reanimated through magic, but it was actually pop culture and various Hollywood horror movies of the 90 s, such as George A. Romero‘s film Night of the Living Dead (1968) that really cemented Zombies into our vernacular.

Btw, the M.o.t.h. (Man of the House), does loves a Zombie movie.

He watches them late at night, well after I have gone to bed. If I happen to wake, I know when he is watching a Zombie movie as I hear a familiar low growl-type tortured scream of the incensed Zombie mob hungry for a feed of living flesh, permeating the walls of the bedroom. So much for romance! I usually roll over and yawn. Zombie movie plots are so vastly similar and too far debased for my television tastes that I don’t see any appeal in them at all.

Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com

Why Celebrate Halloween?

I do wonder why we teach young kids stranger danger, especially strangers bearing sweets or gifts, yet openly encourage them to wander the neighbourhood at night on Halloween, accepting lollies and god knows what else from a person completely unknown to them? Decorations entice them to enter the yard and walk up to a strangers’ door and ask for treats! Incredible.

Worse still, kids may choose to step inside a garage/house which has been decorated in a ‘ghost train’ or graveyard experience-styled theme. Wonderful!

To say nothing of the incentive Halloween gives to consumers to purchase all kinds of plastic rubbish that end up in a landfill. It really is, on the face of it, you know, a bit crae-crae.

So there will be no Halloween celebrated here at the Home by the Sea. Apologies in advance to those who love to celebrate the tradition. As you’ve guessed, I am not one of them.

My light will be off, as that seems to be what needs to be done to dissuade the young ones’ and the Zombies lollie lust. Some will no doubt think our house is fair game, especially if it is still daylight when the Halloween hoards roam the streets, hungry for their fix of sugary treats.

While I am putting the boot into this tradition, can I mention how the ‘Trick’ objective of ‘Trick or Treat’ seems to have gone out the window in favour of just getting that Treat and moving on! Nothing like time management, I guess. Kids around here head straight to the goalposts – they expect a treat and aim to collect as many as possible. Forget about performing for any sweet offerings. No messing around with water pistols or the demands of any ultimatum to the householders.

I once had to offer a biscuit/cookie to a pair of children who fronted up at my door. This was around fifteen years ago when the tradition hadn’t completely taken off yet. I was embarrassed that I had been caught out unprepared. I didn’t always have treats in the house.

I offered the kids a Chocolate Tim-Tam, which they quickly snavelled before moving on to the next house.

Why I don’t believe In Halloween

• I didn’t grow up with this tradition. It came into vogue early in the noughties, in my location.
• It sends mixed messages to kids
• It is heavily commercialised (as is Xmas and Easter)
• It produces voluminous useless plastic trash that ends in landfill or worse still, the ocean
• Making yourself look like you are dead or a bag of bones is just a tad weird.

But like always, I do try to see a silver lining. So on the plus side, Halloween:

• enhances community
• is an excuse to get to know your neighbours better if they are not hidden beneath a Sasquatch onesie splattered in red paint
• means you probably don’t need to cook the kids any dinner that night
• is something children love
• means kids get frightened in a ‘safe,’ way which may help young children process intense emotions (although I am bit conflicted on this)

Any more reasons- both for and against Halloween?

When You See Strange Ghosts

I was young, probably the youngest student in the group. Out of the intake of 20 or so girls and two older guys, I had only just turned 17. I had to wait until my birthday before I could start training at the old hospital, as a Student Nurse.

All the trainees were eager to start the real work of nursing patients on the wards, after six weeks of lectures in the hospital’s Nursing school.

The first ward I was assigned to was the Women’s Medical Ward, on the upper floor of a building pre-dating the 20th century. The ward’s open-plan design appeared unchanged since the days of Florence Nightingale. Its chequered linoleum floor was cold and uninviting.

From the central desk inside the ward, the staff had an uninterrupted view of the patients but there was precious little privacy. With iron-framed beds the colour of milk gone sour, so faded was their paint with the passage of time, patients were hosptialized in this ward for a range of medical illnesses ranging from heart disease to pneumonia, epilepsy to arthritis, as well as terminal conditions.

Tending these patients as a slight 17-year-old was heavy work and there was an immensity of jobs to be completed, each day. While the more senior nurses would dispense medications, dress wounds or undertake more complicated treatments, Junior Nurses like me, carried out hygiene tasks for around 20 or so ladies per student nurse. This consisted of bed-making, toileting, feeding, sponge bathing, showering and managing intravenous therapies. The patient’s fluids, temperature, blood pressure and respiration were monitored.

Especially embarrassing for the patient, was our daily questioning at 2pm as to the state of their bowels – a vital statistical indicator for Nurses of a patient’s general health. If answered in the affirmative, an ‘O’ for opened, would be inserted in the medical chart, which hung on the end of the bed for the world to see. Nowadays these are kept in the Nurses station away from prying eyes.

Woe would betide any patient whose bowel had remain closed for several days, as the Sister in Charge would order the Junior Nurses to administer the dreaded Soap and Water Enema. This comprised a bar of sunlight soap grated into a litre or two of water which was then shall we say, ‘delivered,’ somewhat unceremoniously, via a rubber tube and funnel, ‘where the sun don’t shine! This treatment would speedily initiate the desired bowel evacuation.

A student nurse’s evening shifts were similar to daytime shifts, without the bathing, bed and dreaded enema duties. Each Nurse took a dinner break between 6 and 7.30 pm and walked the long, dark path down the hill to the hospital canteen. I always appreciated break-time as a chance to rest my weary legs.

Back in the ward, patients were offered a final cup of tea, or cordial, after dinner, before teeth were brushed, or mouth toilets given to patients who could not brush on their own. Lights were turned off at 9pm.

Such were the days.

Located on the floor beneath Women’s Medical was an antiquated abandoned Children’s Ward, that was then used for storage of unwanted hospital equipment. To say the deserted ward was creepy, was an understatement. It was dark and musty, even in the daytime. The variety of obsolete medical apparatus strewn haphazardly about could easily be mistaken for the set of a Hollywood horror movie.

One night, on my walk back from dinner break, myself and a fellow student nurse were feeling a little adventurous. We dared each other to walk through the spooky, former Children’s Ward before climbing the stairs to Women’s Medical.

Within two minutes of being inside the dank musty children’s ward walls, our temerity and impulsive sense of adventure was swiftly snuffed out. The unnerving darkness, eerie noises and the apparent shadows sent our teenage imaginations running wild. We bolted up the stairs panting heavily. After a few nervous giggles, we resumed our duties on the ward preparing for lights out.

About 30 minutes later, while collecting blankets from the storage cupboard, I heard shouts from the ward, “Hey, stop!” and something indeterminate. I flew into the ward. An elderly patient who’d been semi-lucid for days, thanks to a brain tumour that affected her sight, was sitting upright in bed, shouting, “Stop him.”

“Stop who?” I asked.

“That little boy. The naked one. He just ran through here. ”

“He ran into the hallway,” advised the lady occupying the bed opposite. Confused, I tried to calm both ladies, assuring them I’d sort it all out, and they should settle down to rest.

With the ladies settled, I resumed my duties. But as I approached the isolation room, which happened to be beside the stairs to the infamous lower level, my imagination took a hold of my senses. The isolation door, which was always closed, stood ajar and I could hear a creaking sound as it moved slightly back and forth.

With my earlier experience fresh in my mind, I stopped mid-stride. My chest was pounding. Was it the wind or was the little boy hidden inside? I didn’t really want to look.

Reprimanding myself for being silly, I dismissed the thought and walked on. When I reached the safety of the Nurses’ station, I couldn’t help but check over my shoulder. There was nothing there. Was the boyish figure simply a patient’s imagination?

If so, why had two ladies claimed to have seen him?

Had we unwittingly disturbed a spirit of a deceased child that haunted the former children’s ward? Surely it was just shadows playing tricks, as the night rolled in? But what of the women with the brain tumour, whose sight was poor? She had seen something. Her petrified face was still present in my mind’s eye.

What was the secret?

Charles Bonnet syndrome refers to the visual hallucinations caused by the brain’s adjustment to significant vision loss. It occurs most often among the elderly who are more likely than any other age group to have eye conditions that affect sight, such as age-related macular degeneration.

http://www.betterhealth.vic.gov.au

Note: Charles Bonnet hallucinations can take the same form each time, or differ. It can be a pattern, figure, animal or imaginary figure. Many people who suffer from Charles Bonnet syndrome do not speak about it with their doctor out of fear of being associated with mental illness.

Happy Halloween! (Even though I do not celebrate it).

Do you have a ‘true,’ ghost story to tell?

Transfering or Inheriting an Existing Blog

Photo by Alexandr Podvalny on Pexels.com

I have yet to complete a death letter to my daughter.

She requested I write one to her before I depart this earth. Not that my death is imminent, or at least I hope not! Is it bad that I procrastinate about the contents?

I am still uncertain what is necessary to include, something I spoke about before. But what happens to our blogs after we do pass?

Will this blog fade away never to see the light of day again?

Have you made provisions for your own blog?

Given someone you trust the password to your PC or blog?

When you want to end a blog, just how do you do it? Do you link to the new one and shut up shop? Say nothing but put a redirect notice in place? Tell everyone it is closing and then leave quietly?

Blogger Ally talked about how there is loads of information on starting a blog, yet there isn’t any info on how to end a blog.

If you have a paid blog, the blog will vanish if you stop paying. Free blogs are more persistent as Colin at pendantry.com stated in how-to-ensure-that-your-blog-lives-forever

Are you happy for your blog to vanish into cyber oblivion?

Haunted House in Talliin

As the Schnauzer begins barking at the Trick and Treaters brave enough to go out in the storm, I am reminded of another creepy tail and wonder about the activities that might occur at a location on the other side of the world.

The Devil’s Window (Rataskaevu 16)

There is a house at No. 16 Rataskaevu Street, across from the Cat’s Well, in Talliin, Estonia, and if you are observant, you might notice something odd – one of the windows on the top floor is bricked up from the inside, and it has false curtains painted on the inside.

• 

  Estonia

• 

  Talliin

Many centuries ago, a mysterious, cloaked man approached the owner of this 15^th-century manor and offered to pay him a huge sum of money for the use of a particular room, on the very upper floor of the house – on the condition that he was granted complete privacy whilst he was there. He emphasized complete privacy. The landlord needed the money and consented to this request. The house was located at 16 Rataskaevu Street, in Talliin’s Old Town.

That night, neighbours reported hearing a tremendous thundering on the stairs, with loud noises coming from the flat. This made certain people very curious and the landlord’s servant couldn’t resist a peek inside.

The Legend of the Devil’s Wedding

Precisely at one o’clock, the sound abruptly stopped, as if the party had simply vanished. The next day the landlord‘s servant, who had been spying through the keyhole, was found mortally ill. Before dying, the servant claimed to have seen the Devil himself having a wedding party in the flat.

From that day on, unexplained party noises have occasionally been heard from the room late at night, even when no one is there. Eventually, the owner bricked up the room’s window to stop the reports.

The neighbour who owns a sushi restaurant did inform us that, during the recent, extensive remodelling of the building numerous artefacts were found hidden in the walls, including coins, documents and, in one wall in the back of the restaurant in what’s now the employees’ room, human bones.

Source: Trip Advisor and Hidden Talliin.com

This legend seemed appropriate to recount on the spookiest night of the year, Halloween. My visit to this location ended at 5pm, so I cannot confirm nor deny this as the Devil’s hangout. Why not visit one day and see for yourself?

• 

• 

  Talliin

Find more Halloween tales, here

An Unusual Request

My daughter wants me to write her a letter. Not just an ordinary letter.

She wants me to write a, ‘death’ letter.

Yes, a ‘death’ letter. I assure you this is not a Halloween gimmick. My dear daughter has requested that I write a letter specifically addressed to her that she might read, after we pass away and are long gone. She explains that it will be a comfort to her in her grief.

Do you think it sounds pretty morbid?
It is Halloween, so perhaps death, morbid thoughts, and hauntings, (in the spirit of fun), are in people’s minds. Is it appropriate to think a little more about deathly topics at Halloween?

So now, I face a dilemma re the content of said letter.
What would/should I put into a ‘death’ letter?

• Heartfelt platitudes?
• Advice on dealing with tough challenges?
• Lifestyle tips and tricks?
• Encouragement that she no longer needs us?
• Practical suggestions?
• Things I lamented and how I dealt with them?
• Unfinished business?

What would you put in a ‘death’ letter?

Have you heard of such a thing?

Haunted Houses and Halloween

With Halloween just around the corner, the topic of whether spirits are real or imagined is often the subject of conversations, particularly among younger people.

This church has been there for 900 years but no one knows why this image was painted there

Children are noted for seeing apparitions, perhaps because of their fertile imagination, or perhaps because of their innocent nature: a nature unfettered and free from the restrictive thoughts of logic and reason, that pervades adults in their thinking and creativity.

An eerie place

Many years ago, I rented a house I believe was haunted or, at least, where things happened, that I couldn’t easily explain.

I was much, much younger than I am now. It was a very old house, somewhat dilapidated, but the rent was cheap and being located close to the city, it was attractive and convenient for a young person on limited means.

I moved in with a housemate. And it wasn’t long before strange things began to happen.

Ghostly mist coming from the fenceposts

Household Objects that Move

Incident #1: I awoke one particular morning feeling nothing out of the ordinary, but was surprised to find the refrigerator situated in the middle of the kitchen and not against the wall, in its usual position. And I do mean in the middle of the kitchen. It was placed about 1 – 2 metres out from the wall as far as the power cord allowed, which was still in the socket. Something, or someone had moved the fridge out from the wall, during the night. Despite my scepticism and questions, my housemate vehemently denied moving the fridge and was asleep beside me all night, as far as I could account. He was as stunned as myself at this strange occurrence. We had no guests or visitors staying over either. It was just us in the house that night. We moved the fridge back against the wall.

Walls that were Numbered

Incident #2: The walls of this old timber house were painted in various shades of white, or off-white, green and light blue. However it was the living room that was of particular interest. On each wall, someone had written a number in black paint – A different number on each wall. Initially, we thought nothing of it. We passed it off as some random numerical graffiti a child had drawn on the walls. That was, until a year or so later, when a visitor casually told us the numbers written on the walls indicated that the living room had been the site of a witch’s coven. A witch’s meeting place!! Given that witches gatherings are not as left of field as they once were, perhaps this is not such a drama, anymore. Although I was taken aback and wondered if it could explain the other incidents like:

Footsteps

Incident #3: Whenever I was in the house alone, and went to the downstairs bathroom, which was under the main part of the house, I would, more often than not, hear the sound of footsteps moving around upstairs, (directly over my head), despite no one else being at home at the time. The footsteps were loud and quick, and they were very clearly above my head.

Strange Noises and Lights

Incident #4: Sitting quietly in the living room watching TV one night, around 1980, a very loud bang accompanied by a flash of bright, blue light appeared in one corner of the room, despite there not being any electrical sockets, or power sources in the vicinity. The lights did go out as I recall, and our pet cockatoo let off a loud shriek and fell off its perch! We were a little frightened, but after some rudimentary investigations could not any explanation for the noise, or the light. Nothing further happened that night. Although it was perplexing at the time, life returned to normal without further mishap or occurrences of the mysterious blue light.

Could it have been a build up of static electricity, perhaps?

All of this was very strange.

This house definitely had some unexplainable and mysterious events. what is worse is that over the time I lived there, it also coincided with distinct personality changes in my housemate. He became abusive and turned to alcohol as comfort, but I am not disputing that other factors could also have accounted for this.

Have you ever watched a horror movie and thought, “Why are those folks going back into that haunted place? Why don’t they get the hell out of there?”

I have thought that yet I was the one who continued to live in that house, despite all these strange happenings. At the time, it didn’t really bother me much, yet I wonder if someone had looked on at me from afar, would they have been yelling the same thing to me?

Living in that house did not seem scary at the time, at all, and I think that is mainly because the house at that time, was my home. Now I just hate that house. If I do drive past it, (and I try not to do so), I wonder what experiences the current residents who live there have had? Did they experience any weird happenings, like me?

The most haunted house in Iceland – my friend was not welcome here

Many old houses seem to have some unsettled spirits and Halloween makes us think about the possibilities of these events having some scientific validity.

A friend of mine lives in one such old house. On several occasions, she has seen an apparition of a young girl in the hallway. When she researched the history of the house, it appeared that a young girl died there, in a house fire, many years previously.

Coincidence?

What do you think?

Have you had a ghostly experience?