Wandering like a ghost rooms
(UR: vorgänge / proceedings)
Four rows dark wood in table form. Per an exact line shining body turns green, coming on Messingbeinchen stiltedly. Of the blanket two grapes of shimmering balls. Shelves everywhere, deep brown spines. In the background high windows, four at the number. Everything seems here to be old, even the camera. Refresh-guess: 30 seconds.
It is, wandering like a ghost rooms one says so. This is a library. The different one a child’s room. A cellar. Ghosts circulated perhaps and perhaps also a different one in these rooms, one “Lady in Grey”. With The haunting Season upon us, now is your chance to Help us prove their existence.
Note down okaily: This is a library. I already stare at the picture for, blinking in 30 second time hours. Most is emptily the room. From time to time a figure at the shelves on one of the armchairs, someplace at these long table rows. I have yes, anyway the armchairs forgotten, and there just now! I see the topmost rungs for a ladder, behind on the left. It is gone now.
An older sir, baldheaded, purring bearded in a blue shirt. Bent. Badge at the shoulders, an official one? One in the gray suit, these ridiculous John-Lennon glasses! At the last table quite on the left. A white shirt/black trousers for 30 seconds at the last shelf. Emptiness. The grapes shine shimmering. An a little plump blonde whole in the foreground! A brunette in a deep brown Pepitta outfit, second row second chair from the left. Motionless. The look at a book stapled with it. Would one hear her breathing if one could hear?
It is, wandering like a ghost rooms one says so. But where are the ghosts? I take a sip from my plastic bottle, would feel like a cigarette. But only doesn’t fall off now, the observer’s first duty is undivided attention. I scan every pixel one by one with my look.
Where are the ghosts? Who are the ghosts? What does appear and where? Do ghosts read books approximately? Do books read themselves if we don’t look? I get nervous. The real body stocking wants PLEASE stand UP! pound I lied and stare in capital letters into this on the picture once more. Refresh, the sand-glass. The dark-haired woman has disappeared. The book lies there opened.
I lean back, have my look curved over our observation head office here. I am new, everything is strange. The four table rows made of gray hard plastic. The exact lines to dull shimmering monitors on this. Of the blanket the sticks of the daylight lamps. Shelves everywhere with Printouts of earlier Logs, bundled in fat deep brown briefcases. In the background the four cheering high windows out through the sky. Second row, second chair from the left a woman ....
I hold my breath. Fixing, Zuzoomen. It isn’t Savadee, its analytical steely gray look by the narrow lenses. Mujis aren’t it in the ungebändigten hair colored bows. It isn’t Mikkel in woman clothes perhaps. No, doubt excluded: It is the brunette in the Pepitta outfit, motionless in front of a monitor.
I breathlessly stare and stare till the eyes start to water for me. I blink.
She has disappeared. The monitor shines blue.
The real body stocking wants PLEASE stand UP for my screen! I yell contrary to. Have I written this? Sweat shoots from all my pores, sticks my legs and my back to the sculpture armchair by the light summer dress. Photo should refresh in 30 seconds. My left forefinger shoots to the Esc button, gets stuck undecidedly about it. May one stop an observation started with once? The sand-glass. I
Source: Willard Library Ghost Cam. Be aware of the sound attack! Then Click _Research_ Button (upper left). Best viewed: Within the haunting season.
Translated by Linguatec
posted by marion @ 00:15:06