A Playful Ghost

Last Friday, before my readings, everything was all set: my office caddy had all the essentials, my recording devices were prepared and waiting . I looked around, satisfied, until my sight landed on the antique green chest: The coaster, my favourite one, was missing.

I knew that it had been there but I launched a search around the house for it. It bothered me that the coaster was missing. When, finally, after searching the kitchen and the foyer, I decided to give up. Maybe I had moved it after all.

When I returned to the living room, I saw it: there, on the antique green chest, was my favourite coaster.

"Who did that?" I wondered aloud.

"It's me, Alfred."

Great, I thought, but I don't know an 'Alfred'. He had dark brown, almost black, hair and dark eyes. He wore a white t-shirt and he was pretty young looking.

"Are you here for one of the readings?" I asked.

He laughed. "I just come when I'm expected to."

That was a pretty cryptic response but, then, I hadn't seen him before and I haven't seen him since that day. So, as my husband suggests, he was probably there for a reading. At least I got my coaster back.