God! An entity rambling at the interface of orbits. Headlong, but disoriented. Then a strangest detail struck me—it trailed on invisible tracks. Glided. It had no obvious legs.
I peered ahead. No feet, as a matter of fact. A ghost? Aw, with an arm dangling. It hung from a rag, its contours fuzzy.
A ghost hunting night in a fin de siècle palazzo flipped luxury restaurant reveals eerie staff, baffling ghosts in my novel Darxination, and a spooky dark-crystal mirror in the basement.
I tasted mystery in a spooky hotel room of old Bucharest.
What exactly is LOVE, people have always wondered. It is a feeling quite difficult to explain, it is a state of being. People usually say it is hard for them to…
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