Good evening, friends.

I’m quite pleased to be here with you this particular night as I would like to answer for the state of people’s spirits! Who’s you may ask? Well mine of course. I was doing ghost push-ups earlier in the day and the exertion I felt, in some manner in which I cannot quite explain, forced a wonderful memory into my mind space. I ran up the steps and into my room, straight to the journal and turned right to page one hundred and seventy one. Much to my glee, there it was – a short but most favorite of my memories.

July 4th – 1888

An American strong man by the name of William “Cronus” Duggard was staying in my home, put up by the state while he performed for three weeks at a trade show that culminated on America’s independence day. He was a nice-a-nuff chap, constantly practicing his calisthenics which included, but was not limited to; sit ups, top twists, up tops, arm swings, jumping jacks, blurp sworts, bottom lifts, neck pops and ankle whips. It wasn’t the exercises themselves that pecked at my nerves, but the grunts and shouts that accompanied such acts. William Duggard was a tall muscular man lacking all hair on top of his head and more than was necessary beneath his nose. He wore one piece suits most days whose name at the time was unknown to me and most on the island. He spoke in a high voice around the home; a voice that became much lower when guests arrived – a fact that I found to be ridiculous yet bone twistingly amusing. One afternoon I witnessed “Cronus” riding the most peculiar sort of bicycle with one preposterous large wheel in front and a foolish, small one in the rear. I often wondered how he was able to climb atop such a machine.

I learned very little of the man, to be quite honest, he bored me painfully and the only thing that remotely peaked my interest was the fact that he journeyed from the beaches of New Jersey a place of great interest to me inflamed only more so by yearning to see more silly large wheeled bicycles. Regardless, I had planned my fright on the last day of his stay and everything was set precisely; I was set to scare him with mirrors, creating a series of illusions, magnifying my presence by dozens, inflicting the victim with the sense of an overwhelming attack, crushing his lungs with panic until he flees the premises, wailing, never to return… you know… ghost stuff.

I attacked in the morning before William was to perform when he approached from his quarters in his signature top of tanks if you would. I foolishly misplaced the first mirror causing a most silly misstep. You see, William saw my uncovered ghost face killing him instantly with a terror shock. Now granted, those who say things about these matters would document that William “Cronus” Duggard tripped over a mirror above the steps tumbling downwards neck over bottom, breaking his top spine from the crushing pop of the bottom step. But I, as most ephemeral presences know, know that he died instantly from a terror shock brought on from seeing my face.

Happy Independence Day.

Sincerely yours,
Seth