"Things are not always as they seem," or so my grandma told me. Bedtime stories not from books, but from our family albums.
dark hallways
beneath the covers
with a flashlight
Well before the clock strikes midnight, well before their guests are bid welcome, the choir sings loud and louder still. Doors and windows, locked; nosy parishioners, sent on their way, as great-grandpa and grandma prepare the secret parlor.
with sonorous voice
the minister calling forth
the dead
"Some believe in the future, others in the past, but within the present moment, all times converge," or so my grandma said. And so when once I woke near 3:00am in an old musty room, I had a feeling who plucked me out of bed.
life as ghost
before I was born
grandpa's favorite
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