Native Ghost Stories The August grass in the field was high, yellowing and drying out. A movement in my peripheral vision caused me to look towards the field. Normally the field was empty except for visitors coming up the dirt road that stretched a few hundred feet from the house to a gravel road that ran north and south. In the field about halfway between the house and the gravel road, walking to the south, was a black-clothed guy, whose slightly forward-leaning walk caused his long hair to hang in front of his face. I could only see him from the waist up since the high grass hid his legs. After watching him for a few seconds, I briefly looked down to pour out the last of the offerings. When I looked towards the field again he was gone. I stood there for awhile before walking out into the field. Thinking I had alarmed him by staring, I wanted to tell him it was ok to walk through the field and there was no need to hide. Walking into the grass, I noticed it was barely at my knees and not waist high. I could also see through the grass for quite a ways and after searching through field for a long time, I realized there was no one in it. On that quiet, bright afternoon, a visitor had come, only noticed as he was leaving when the last offerings went back to the earth.
Posted on: Wed, 30 Oct 2013 15:18:08 +0000
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