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From the Attic
Random Ramblings
by T. Owen Stark
Of Ghosts and Coincidence
 I
was feeling pretty good after a few vodka tonics
To the point where I felt comfortable enough to converse
With this vaguely familiar, lovely lady sitting next to me at
the bar.
I leaned over and asked;
"Do you like ghost stories?"
"I happen to love ghost stories," She replied.
I began by telling her about the ghost that tried to kill me
The night after I saw my name appear in large black letters
On the television screen.
She ordered a double and asked me to continue.
I told her about the lady I work with who asked me to answer
The phone stating that it might be my Mother,
Knowing all the while that my Mother was deceased.
Well the lady on the phone just happened to have the same
Last name as my Mother's maiden name, Joy. Not Smith or Jones…
Joy.
Her husband's name was Edwin, which just happened to be my Dad's
name.
Then I told her about the time my sisters and I were visiting
The grave sites of my parents.
We were in the wrong area and looking when I stumbled across
A section of headstones with the family last name, but not relation
As far as we could tell.
There was Mary E. Owens…deceased 1951….the same year
my sister, Mary E. Owens was born.
I must say she was a bit startled when she came over to have
a look.
"Shall I continue?" I asked.
Without hesitation the pretty lady replied; "By all means,
continue."
"Okay, this is the kicker.
I attended a VanGogh exhibit a few years ago.
I was compelled it seemed by unknown forces to his work,
But had never viewed it in person.
On the day of the final showing I knew I had to go.
I was sick with fever and an active kidney stone but decided
To take the trip downtown by subway.
When I arrived, there was a very long line.
Tickets were free, but limited. Someone was scalping, but I declined,
Placing my faith in destiny.
I got my ticket and 3 or 4 people after me as well and then they
ran out. Hundreds were turned away.
It was an incredible experience.
I was exhausted by the end and my fever had risen.
It was all I could do to remain standing. I was extremely lightheaded.
While I viewed the final piece of the exhibit, 'Wheatfields Under
Threatening Skies', someone spoke to me from just behind my right
shoulder.
"I want to thank you for coming my good man. It means a
great deal to me."
I turned to answer, but before I could reply I was stunned to
see the likeness between this man and VanGogh himself was astounding.
I turned to look at a self-portrait on a wall nearby and back
to the gentleman again, but he was gone.
Hallucination due to my fever…perhaps,
But I'll never believe that."
"That is quite the story and you are quite the storyteller."
She said.
"Now it is my turn to tell you a story before I go. Do you
see that lady in the mirror sitting next to you, the one who
is captivated by your lust for life? Look real hard. Now slowly
close your eyes and slowly open them again."
When I did, she was gone. But in a brief instant it was as if
the entire
Room went quiet and I heard a whisper; "I loved posing for
you, Vincent."
Author's Note: This is a 'Ghost Story'
I wrote which is a bit unusual in that it contains actual events
wrapped in a fictitious setting. One of these events I describe
in detail in an earlier article.
Tom Owens was born in Washington
DC. After living in Maryland for many years, he became a single
parent and now resides in Virginia with his children who are
the first 3 loves of his life. The other three are music, movies
and The Washington Redskins. Tom also dabbles in poetry. You
can read more of his poetry at http://starkimages.blogspot.com/
Send Tom a message either directly or using
the Word Catalyst feedback form. For more from Tom visit the
Word Catalyst archives or his online
home.
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