Thursday 20 November 2014

The Ghost Passenger



(Sorry there is a premature end to this recording)

There’s nothing better than a hot dog on Ceske Budejovice station. Today Prague had never seemed so far away. It was cold and wet and I was stupidly tired. The damp was coursing through my veins making my creaking joints ache. It was only 4.57 but already night had taken over from day, who’d slipped off a few minutes early to collect its kids from school. But the hot dog had cheered me up a little bit. I screwed up the paper it came in a popped it into the empty rubbish bin by my seat.

These old trains with their mini compartments were great when they were empty, peace and quiet. Despite it being cold outside the compartment was still overly hot. So I turned the heating down to stop myself being slow roasted like a goose at Christmas. I kicked off my shoes, put my feet on the seat opposite and decided to get some sleeping practice. I hadn’t been sleeping very well recently so needed all the practice I could get.

As the train departed from one of its tin pot stations on route, the door to the compartment slowly rolled open. I groggily opened one eye to see if anyone had come in but no one had. I had half a sleepy mind to get up and close the door, but before I could rouse my aching body, the motion of the train had done the job for me. I closed my eyes and tried to drift off back to sleep

But something stopped me from dropping off. I was suddenly cold, really cold, goose pimple cold. I’ve never been cold on a Czech train, ever. Even when the heating’s off they still resemble a Swedish Sauna. I pulled my jacket around me but it didn’t help, it felt like the damp had now frozen in my veins, making me cold from the inside out. But it wasn’t just the cold, somehow the atmosphere had changed in the compartment. I didn’t feel like I was alone anymore. I had the feeling that someone was sitting opposite me, staring at me, disapproving of my pink socks or my feet on the seats. There was the faintest smell of citrus fruit in the compartment that hadn’t been there before. Maybe someone next door was eating an orange but the smells didn’t usually waft down the corridor.  I closed my eyes and tried to relax but my body was stiff and tense, the hairs on my neck standing on end. The orangey smell was stronger now and if it was possible I felt even more cold. Then I felt something brush past me and the small rubbish bin next to me inexplicably opened and shut, not by much but just enough.

As we rolled into Benesov the door slid open again  but this time it didn’t close itself. I got up and shut it firmly and sat back down. The cold was gone along with the smell. I shook my head wondering what that had been all about and then put my empty coffee cup into the bin. I closed the lid and then froze with fear, next to my hot dog wrapper and now under my coffee cup was an orange peel that hadn’t been there before.

If you enjoy ghost stories you might enjoy the daily updated novel by my friend Megan. Check out the first instalment here.
http://meganleeprose.wordpress.com/2014/11/01/1-november-simplistic/

9 comments:

  1. This story reminded me of another "ghost" story, which is one of my favourite: http://garethsshortstoryblog.blogspot.com/2014/02/ghost-in-fog.html

    with a beautiful song too

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    1. Films about ghosts:
      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XDbR_8K3J70&list=PL_a6QYUnRikBSZ_z43poaig7cnL8gR7Pi

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  2. It's so terribly cold. I will die if it doesn't get warmer...

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  3. .... or if you are not in a mood for sweet romantic stories (your voice sounds tired) this one may provide a really cold breeze on this hot hot day

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    1. You've broken both your rules for archive stories, this one isn't old enough while the other one has been an archive story before... :-)

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  4. Most of the stories have already been an archive story. Let's dance has never ben one :-)

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  5. And this one is Old enough :-)

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  6. And this one is Old enough. Nine months is enough :-)

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