An Uncanny Confession
Murder in Mind
He sat in his chair and began to write as the candle flickered from the draught in the cell. The time had come. His execution was in the morning. So he began to write; with nothing left to lose — his own existence forfeited for another — there was just enough time, before the Dawn, to tell his strange but true story……
To be alive is to know of ghosts.
Many of us have seen them. But to be haunted by oneself? Now that is a different level of the supernatural, is it not? More of the super-unnatural? I think so. I know so.
Ghosts are everywhere. Yet not in that colloquially accepted visual form for that is the stuff of Gothic melodrama. The real ghosts are what might have been, what we did not do, and the, “If only……”. They are choices not made and a resultant reality unseen but not unforgotten, an echo of what might have been, that will not die, that will not easily divest itself of that mortal coil. Still, it exists, in a form unknowable, yet familiar, in a ghostly but profaned manifold. I now know its name and its nature. It is ‘The Uncanny’.
These profound and deep questions are only brought into our conscious world when moments of significance erupt into our lives. At the very edge of existence where the liminal slides, emerges, into our life. This is when we become haunted. I am…
