He scrutinized everything in the ditch (squashed drinks cans and cartons, soggy cigarette packets, torn items of clothing, discarded newspapers and ripped magazines, used condoms and orange peel) carefully, but saw nothing untoward.

The Colonel neared the end of the ditch and was just about to give up his search, when he saw something that resembled a silver-tinged sphere resting at the very bottom of the ditch, half-submerged in a puddle of muddy water.

With a cry of exaltation, the Colonel bounded forward and reached into the ditch. He managed to lift the mud-splattered head out of its watery prison, whereupon he placed it on the grass and pulled his Union Jack handkerchief out of his trouser pocket. He wiped the mud off the head and looked at the features of his guest.

Staring at him was his own face – wearing an evil sneer.

“No!” screamed the Colonel, scrambling to his feet and backing away from the head, horror and revulsion washing over him. He stepped back further – into the road. Into the path of an oncoming sixteen wheel lorry.

The driver did not have enough time to stop and the lorry hit the Colonel whilst traveling at sixty miles an hour, knocking him down and running him over. The rear wheels of the lorry ran over the Colonel’s neck, severing his head, which rolled across the grass verge and dropped into the muddy puddle at the bottom of the ditch. The driver managed to stop the lorry a little further down the road, then got out to see what had happened, although he had a fair idea. Several of the cars that had been behind the lorry slowed, then braked, either to offer assistance or simply to have a look at a fatality.

Everyone was so busy looking at the Colonel’s decapitated body that no one noticed the silver-tinged figure appear at the roadside. Neither did they see it pick up its head and tuck it under its arm.

The ghost of Colonel (Retd.) Frederick Bramlett-Foster, no longer uneasy by the road that had killed him, stood and watched the commotion for a few moments, then, pleased that it knew who it was at last (and very glad that it had its head back), disappeared into its loosely-glazed family home.