A Spooky Story

by Louisa-Jacques-Mandé Daguerre

Once I was on a choir tour in college on the east coast, maybe around new hampshire, someplace quaint, or maybe it was in the midwest, wisconsin, after a tour of the f.l. wright johnson building, someplace with old houses and cows and cow shit, and we had to sing in churches and then stay in the old houses of the people who patronize the churches and I stayed there with this other girl who sang, a friend, who i'm living with now actually, and we went to sleep in this tall old victorian, up on the fourth floor, in a weird tiny side room and all of the wood creaked and there were tintypes on the walls and we went to sleep and I was laying there on my side and could tell someone was standing behind me and then felt a hand touch my shoulder but i knew it was a ghost so I pretended to sleep and then it left and i slept, there was a smell but i can't remember and in the morning i asked jordan, did you touch your hand to my shoulder, and she said, no i was asleep but i felt something too, and then i knew.

  Louisa-Jacques-Mandé Daguerre is ooOOOooOOoOOOOOooOOOOoOOOooOOOOo.