I told myself that there was nobody out on my front porch.
I told myself over and over again that nobody was walking from window to window on either side of my front door, trying to peer through the gauzy curtains with the lace trim that my great grandmother had sewn herself about a million years ago.
I stood there, in my kitchen willing them to just go away, to not raise there hand to the knocker and to rap it against the worn and rusted metal plate under it.
But of course they did knock on my door and they did keep walking from window to window and I heard that person say ( oh no! they weren’t alone ) ” I don’t see anybody in there. ”
” Then go ahead and see if you can open the door. I’ll bet it’s not locked. ”
That’s a bet you’d win, I thought to myself.
I heard the door creak open I heard footsteps whisper against the floorboards and how funny it was that now the people ( not just a single person ) decided to whisper ” I told you, this place is empty. Nobody lives here. ”
I walked out of my kitchen and down the hall to greet my uninvited guests.
” Go on, there’s the living room. Let’s set up. ”
The hazy figures from my porch walked right up to me, and then they walked right through me- like they always do.
Ghosthunters, I thought to myself,
if they needed to feed on us to live, they’d starve.
Sadly, I must confess, I am very good at what I do and I am never hungry for long.