For more of Theresa Andersson, check out bbook.com
"There were a lot of ghost stories where I grew up in Sweden and it used to freak me out as a kid but I didn’t think much of it. When I first moved to New Orleans, I was living in a slave quarter, which is the back house from the bigger, main building. A voodoo priest lived across the courtyard from us and every night, I would see her walk around the rooms with sage as the sun went down to chase out the bad spirits. One night, I was upstairs on my futon and I was still awake, my eyes were wide open and from around the corner came this very large, totally black shadow in the shape of a man. It came towards me and it jumped—throwing itself at me. I sat straight up and screamed for my life and then it evaporated. I couldn’t sleep after that. It was not a friendly presence at all. Maybe there’s something to the sage. Maybe the she chased them over to me. "
On the first and only time Andersson saw a ghost.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment