The ghost of Gennifer Blackwood awoke at the sounds of human activity on the first floor of the mansion she had dwelled in since meeting a tragic, grisly end there decades earlier.
Evening in Feliciana Parish was setting in a rich blue.
The spirit floated down to the high-ceilinged, richly appointed foyer and observed as a young man emerged from the breezeway toting a suitcase and bag. He was humming happily, excited at arriving at his new home.
Gennifer smiled a ghostly smile; she would change that. As she had done to several families before—she would drive him out with a nerve shattering, spectral assault.
She sprang into view directly in front of him.
"You are warned," she cried in a terrifying howl, "Leave this place or you will meet your doom!"
The man stopped cold and looked at her. A moment passed, then another.
"Uh, hi," he said, only slightly nonplussed, "My name is Brad. I just bought the place. Moved here from Philly for my job, you know. And you are...?"
The ghost of Gennifer Blackwood was stunned, uncertain how to respond. She shrieked even louder,
"I am your nightmare!! Run while you still caaaaannnnnn!!"
"Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot," replied Brad. "Let's start over. Have dinner with me.
A charming, beautiful woman keeping me company my first night here would be a dream come true! What do you say?"
The spirit was at a loss. Distant, faded memories stirred. Had he called her beautiful? She looked at him closely. He had a friendly, earnest smile on his face.
He spoke again. "I hope I'm not being too forward. I didn't mean to creep you out or anything."
Gennifer stuttered quizzically, "You?—creep ME out?"
He continued, "I know it's short notice but it would mean a lot to me. You live around here, I take it?"
"This is my home," she answered, "I haunt the living while spending eternity in the prison
of my own circumstance."
"Wow!" said Brad, "Tough day job! I'm in banking myself, so I know how that goes."
They dined that night; Brad on egg salad—Gennifer on the protoplasm of feelings long buried.
They grew to love each other, though he admitted to her later that he fell for her the moment
that he laid eyes on her.
They spent the years of Brad's life in the mansion. And when he died, he rose up to her side--
and they passed over the threshold together.
Shortly after, a young family moved into the mansion. They spent many peaceful years there.
Evening in Feliciana Parish was setting in a rich blue.
The spirit floated down to the high-ceilinged, richly appointed foyer and observed as a young man emerged from the breezeway toting a suitcase and bag. He was humming happily, excited at arriving at his new home.
Gennifer smiled a ghostly smile; she would change that. As she had done to several families before—she would drive him out with a nerve shattering, spectral assault.
She sprang into view directly in front of him.
"You are warned," she cried in a terrifying howl, "Leave this place or you will meet your doom!"
The man stopped cold and looked at her. A moment passed, then another.
"Uh, hi," he said, only slightly nonplussed, "My name is Brad. I just bought the place. Moved here from Philly for my job, you know. And you are...?"
The ghost of Gennifer Blackwood was stunned, uncertain how to respond. She shrieked even louder,
"I am your nightmare!! Run while you still caaaaannnnnn!!"
"Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot," replied Brad. "Let's start over. Have dinner with me.
A charming, beautiful woman keeping me company my first night here would be a dream come true! What do you say?"
The spirit was at a loss. Distant, faded memories stirred. Had he called her beautiful? She looked at him closely. He had a friendly, earnest smile on his face.
He spoke again. "I hope I'm not being too forward. I didn't mean to creep you out or anything."
Gennifer stuttered quizzically, "You?—creep ME out?"
He continued, "I know it's short notice but it would mean a lot to me. You live around here, I take it?"
"This is my home," she answered, "I haunt the living while spending eternity in the prison
of my own circumstance."
"Wow!" said Brad, "Tough day job! I'm in banking myself, so I know how that goes."
They dined that night; Brad on egg salad—Gennifer on the protoplasm of feelings long buried.
They grew to love each other, though he admitted to her later that he fell for her the moment
that he laid eyes on her.
They spent the years of Brad's life in the mansion. And when he died, he rose up to her side--
and they passed over the threshold together.
Shortly after, a young family moved into the mansion. They spent many peaceful years there.
Written Content G.A.M. cc
Portrait Of Gen Joe Klune
