Saturday, January 1, 2011

A ghost of the grandfather

At the age of 8, I broke my leg and that is why I did not go to school. I lay in bed reading a book. At some point by the closet I saw a man I had never seen before. He was wearing a black suit, had black hair, was very tall and thin. He smiled, every now and then turning his head to the left side of the window. After a moment, he turned away went out through the window. At first I thought that I dreamed it, but when I told this to my mom, she could not get out of surprise, because inch for inch, I described the appearance of her dead father, my grandfather, whom I didn't know. He died three years before my birth.