Dear reader,

Happy Halloween and I wish you have a wonderful night. If you don’t have any celebrations, hope this letter come to you on time so that you can meet the ghost enclosed. Be merciful and let him speak up at Halloween night. Your part is simple. Grasp a bag of potato chips and a coke, sit down on the sofa and listen to his ghost-story. Enjoy.

Cheers,
Linda
Halloween 2011

 (Ghost, image from Google Search)

Hi, my name is Tom Ryan …… I’m glad that you are not afraid of me. Though I am a ghost, I won’t hurt you. Even I wish to, Holy Ghost[1] won’t allow this happened …… Thank you for your consolation …… Sorry that I am wearing a ghost brand[2]  summer T-shirt. Hope my look doesn’t chill you …… Yeah! Good guess. And it’s inhuman to deprive us a ghost of a chance[3] of changing clothes.

I gave up the ghost[4] in a summer night, 50 years ago, unexpectedly. My father was a ghost farmer[5]. We were a family of three and lived in New York. In his will my father left his lands to me; cash to my sister. I sold the lands one by one and finally, to the last one — Zombie-land. Urgh! What a disgusting name. I decided to make a check of the land and sell it swift. A ghost town[6] it was, as was expected.

I kept on driving to see if I could find any people. Suddenly, from nowhere, a ghost driving[7] van almost hit my car. I turned the steeling wheel and avoid the crash, but smashed into a shop-window.

When I woke up, I saw my body in the car. Many ghosts stopped at the spot and gossiped. I was very anxious and yelled, “Hey, guys, how can I get back into my body?” Surrounded by giggles and followed by a “Hooray”, I was dragged away.

Guess where my fellows drag me to …… Well, good try. But the party to welcome me – the newcomer, was held on a ghost train[8]. Damn it. I tried my whole life to avoid such scary experience. I even broke up with my girlfriend because she insisted on having a ride with me. Why can’t writers speak the truth that some ghosts have a weak heart? The ride was terrible …… Thanks for recommending me a ghost writer[9] . I will contact him later.

After the terror, I was sick. Back to Zombie-land, life was boring and I could only kill time by nagging. All fellows left me soon. I kept on waiting. Someone finally came after a week. Surprisingly, it’s the ghost test taker[10]  that I hired five years ago. We looked very much alike. He took all my documents and burned the rest. He drove away then.

I tried to rescue my body, but in vain. There was no hope to go back to my body. I went to every corner of the world to hunt for that bastard since then. It took me a couple of months to find out where he settled down. I decided to show up and scare him to death. But it was too late.

That bastard took a slip in the bathroom and died. When I saw him, he was naked. Can you imagine what he had done to me? ……. Shit! He peed on me. That’s disgusting. Isn’t it?

Hey, what’s that? Who is peeing on me? Oh! No. It’s holy water ……. Help ……

(After Tom vanished, I saw my little brother in his devil costume, holding not the devil fork, but the water gun he brought to the church last Sunday, and giving a hearty laugh.)

Special notes on the meaning of the underlined words:

[1] Holy Spirit
[2] Obsolete brand
[3]  A thread of opportunity
[4] Died
[5] Person who owns a lot of farmlands, but never plow and sow
[6] A desert town.
[7] Driving in the opposite direction
[8] British saying, the train in a fun fair that brings people to scary decorated places.
[9] Writer hired to write anonymously.
[10] Person hired to take an examination.

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