Believe me, that idea is completely amiss-at least for me. What I’m trying to say is that everything you were taught about life after death is wrong. You see, I had expected to find a set of pearly, white gates opening up for me a glorious light to rain down upon me, and perhaps even my deceased loved ones to race toward me, welcoming me home. Now, that might sound somewhat extraordinary to you, but it certainly didn’t feel that way whatsoever. The last thing I did recall was separating from my body. In fact, if it wasn’t for my headstone, I wouldn’t even know my own name. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t seem to recall a single moment from my former life. Nearly one hundred years later, and I had only just begun to accept the fact that I was dead. Some names are real but in no means represent the characters portrayed in this work. It is strictly forbidden to reproduce or copy any part of this work without the written consent of the author. The Ghost of Buxton Manor © 2016 Jonathan L.FerraraĪll rights reserved. Michael Llewelyn Davies (16 June 1900 - )
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