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After we moved to Oklahoma in 1967,
we lived in a small cheery house by a park for a while, and then later moved to
an old house across town. Dad had made a deal to buy the old place, complete
with a fenced in back yard, so we could at last have a dog. There was a large
attic that may have had a room in it, and a basement large enough to
accommodate the H.O. train layout I had always dreamed of building! However,
we were not to occupy the house long enough for me to check out the attic or
think of building a model railroad.
Excitement
ran high as we made plans for the old house, and everything was just fine
until we got moved in and settled down to normal living. As you walked in the
front door, you were in the living room. Mom and dad's bedroom was on your
immediate right and mine was the next door on the right. Both bedrooms were
entered from the living room.
My bedroom had only one window and it had neat Cape Cod style
shutters over it. The only problem was, it only looked into the garage that
we never got around to using. Every night when I would try to fall asleep, I
would hear the sound of someone walking across the living room. Several times
I got up and called out to my parents to see if they were up, but usually
found them sound asleep. At first I was frightened, then after awhile I got
to where I would just pull my pillow over my ear to keep from hearing it so I
could get some sleep.
We never knew
what was making the sound, but I was glad that for some reason, still unknown
to me, dad cancelled the purchase contract of the house.
This is a
true story by Calypso.
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