During this time of year, they say the veil between the living and the dead is thin. Autumn stirs up ghosts. I have a ghost story, a true one. October, 1972. Memphis. My friend Mary Ann was five years older than I. Thick chestnut hair, agile and big-boned, sensual, moody, impulsive, a surgical technician, a Naval dishonorable discharge in her youth, rough, dark wit, and not a shred of ’emotional regulation’—the favored term these days. Back then we called it “wild.” I was a college theatre student and part-time waitress, renting a little house on … Continue reading Ghost Story by Trudy Hale →