I don't know if it was luck, coincidence, fate, or something else entirely that landed my wife and I in this house four years ago, but it seems to have worked out pretty well, all things considered. It's a nice house, just outside a little farm town. It's not fenced, but the local woods creep right up to the backyard, which is nice. She's getting up there in age, but she's held up well. We have George to thank for that. George was here when we moved in. We didn't know about George for quite some time, and it was an...interesting adjustment once we came to terms with it. Who is George, you say? A squatter? A feral critter? An abandoned pet? Oh, no. Pull up a chair and I'll tell you the story of how we met our resident ghost.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.