Day 581

There's always a patch of haze in the conservatory.
It's been there since Grandma was a child, back when her grandfather was Lord of the estate.
Not once has it moved from the conservatory though it sometimes follows the servants around.
I'd say it's almost playful sometimes, jerking forwards to make them jump and scream.

We'd all laugh at our ghostie, our misty friend who watches over us.
Ever since Grandma passed away it's been getting less hazy.
Where a patch of mist-like aether used to float, now we can see something human.
It seems to be dangling from a rope.

The clearer it becomes, the less it moves from one spot.
It's like it freezes when it knows someone can see it, just sways in one spot until you turn around.
Of course as soon as you face away it moves right behind you and stares.
It will lower or raise itself to make eye contact with whoever is there.

We've since bolted the conservatory doors and begun constructing a new conservatory.
It's not the same of course, some of those plants were almost two hundred years old.
From time to time we peer into the old conservatory to see if our ghostie it still there.
Every time all we see is its large black eyes, far larger than any human's could ever be.