Wilco didn’t believe in ghosts … but now he wasn’t so sure.
Something was going on at his new flat, but he couldn’t figure it out. He found a blanket that wasn’t his in the spare bedroom. Then, the toilet seat was left up. One evening he went to the fridge and stood blinking into the light. There had been a full bottle of milk that morning. Now, there wasn’t enough for a cup of tea.
Wilco was an educated man: he had a graduate degree. He sat staring at the milk bottle. Was he going mad? He had been working hard lately; he hadn’t taken a break for nearly a year. He opened the cupboard. Damn! He knew for sure there had been two bottles of wine and now there was only one. He checked the rubbish but there was no bottle. This was a Three Bears scenario.
He poured himself a very large glass from the remaining bottle. Then he heard footsteps inside the flat. Emboldened by drink he searched each room, even in the cupboards. Nobody there.
It must be a ghost, a restless spirit. The landlord hadn’t wanted to talk about the outgoing tenant. Had he died there, or worse, been murdered?
Wilco had a restless night. In the morning, he saw the vision going out the front door. Wilco gasped, at least he hadn’t gone through the door.
He called the police and later they arrested the man who had been living under the floorboards.
Words: Richard Rooney
Illustration: A.I.
Flash Fiction 250
Flash Fiction 250 