GHOSTS CAN DANCE

Near home, at a turn off on the Black Woods Road dwells the spirit of a maiden killed by the logging truck she tried to flag down after a sorry incident with a boyfriend. Many have seen that ghost with some giving her a ride to her former domicile down the hill, they said. A professor at the local branch of the state's university even included the tale in a book about notable mysteries of the region. Later, when a French exchange student arrived at the campus a young friend of mine took a shine to the girl and offered to show her around with me to assist in translation and stand as the respectable chaperone. Of course our first destination after McDonald's was on the Black Woods Road and she was suitably impressed by the beauty of the site until I launched into discourse over the rumored presence of its otherworldly inhabitant. I may have been a bit theatrical in my presentation, I thought a touch of frisson could not hurt the budding relationship on the front seats, but she turned back with a near-scowl on her pretty face. "You are shitting me (my translation,) she said, they have the very same story in the village my family comes from." Here's an attempt at explanation.