The New Path

The New Path

“The wind whistled outside as I tried to start a fire.

I was lucky to get into this house. I’d had a flat; a spare tire, but no lug wrench. I was trying to find somewhere to borrow one. Then the snow started, fast. It was find shelter, or wait it out in my car.

I knocked, but the house was empty. Wiggling the handle must have dislodged the old lock because it suddenly popped, and the door opened. It felt like coming home as I rushed in.

There was furniture, dusty, nobody had been there in ages. Resigned to stay until the storm was over, I thought if I lit a fire I could at least be warm; it wasn’t going well.

As I struggled, I suddenly realized I wasn’t really cold anymore. Matter of fact, my back actually seemed warm. Turning, to convince myself it was just frustration making me warm, I saw them, two girls. I screamed, and they disappeared!

As I sat trying to catch my breath, I heard a soft voice. “I’ll start the fire for you, don’t be afraid,” they reappeared, and the fire started.

We ended up talking all night. I told them about the world, and they told me about being ghosts. Inevitably, I bought the house and started a new path, writing ghost stories; obviously, with their help. I owe my wonderful success directly to them. And now I’m going to join them. I love you Jeff, but, after all, they’re family too.”

“Don’t talk like that, Gram,” Jeff said, turning, but his grandmother was slumped in her chair. Looking past her, he could see three people walking toward the lake, talking animatedly. Two young girls, and his beloved grandmother.

That was the day that Jeff began his own new path.