Upon Reflection

The story I was told on this ghost tour, was that there was a body at the bottom of this well.

Instead of pulling the body up, it was left down there. The well was filled bentonite clay and unceremoniously  capped. There it sat in an alley way surrounded by falling down buildings and sketchy store front. ,  not exactly a forgotten grave, but one that wasn’t acknowledged.

Then as the area was developed and gentrified, people started to say they say a woman wondering around the alley and if you saw her called out to her she would turn, open her mouth and lumps of chalk  and clay would fall out onto her chest and chin. Her face was a ruin- it looked like melted wax and the left side of her head was gone.

Nobody of course  really wanted to dig that well up, so they built a pretty fountain over it and filled it with plants. They had a funeral for the poor soul underneath the fountain, at the bottom of the well and  some people say it soothed the spirt.

But she isn’t gone. People still see her sometimes and they hope against hope that she doesn’t turn around and look at them.

Photo AM Moscoso

This is a reflection pool at a cemetery.

The idea is, people visiting their loved ones sit on the granite benches and reflect on whatever they want to reflect upon.

Of course, you can sit there and reflect  on your loved ones whether or not you have a pulse.

It’s in a cemetery after all.

Evergreen Washelli
Seattle, WA
Photo A.M. Moscoso

FOR RDP WEDNESDAY: FOUNTAIN

It Was Only A Dream

Brighten movie screen area

AI by WordPress

WP asked:

What’s a moment in your life that felt like it was straight out of a movie?

I’ve had a lot of experiences that have ended up here on my blog in various forms of fiction but there was one incident that felt like it could have come straight out of a movie.

One night I had a whopper of a nightmare and I woke up to find my family huddled in the  bedroom doorway, the over head light on and my brother had a baseball bat in his hand.

I remember thinking I hadn’t woken up and that this moment had to be part of my dream because what the Hell was going on?

That night I had a dream about a witch – not one of those  witches that are now symbols of empowerment and positivity but an evil hag with no eyes- her face was withered and twisted. She had long fingers and caked with dirt  and I know that because in my dream I was looking out my bedroom window and her face and hand were pressed against the glass.

I yelled at her to go away.

She bellowed back that she wasn’t going anywhere, to let her in this very second.

I pounded on the window frame to try to scare her off, she scratched at the window and howled  and screamed at me some-more.

It was a dream, right? Just a horrible nightmare.

My family were in  my doorway, my brother armed with my baseball bat. The only person missing was my Dad and that was because he was in the living room calling the police because to all of them it sounded like I was yelling at an intruder-screaming blue murder as my Grandma Ginger would say…and they said they were scared and concerned because to them it sounded like someone was in the room with me- they said they heard two voices talking over each other and it sounded horrific.

You know, I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation for what they heard. That I managed to ‘split’ my voice and somehow managed to sound like two people talking at the same time.

But I haven’t come up with one and I don’t care to.

Sometimes it’s best just to let nightmares gallop away-far away when you can.