Upright Ghost Piano

I used to live in an old hunting lodge, in Tujunga, California. There was one small part of the living room, an alcove with built-in bunk beds, that my girlfriend sealed off immediately with a large screen. My brother would absolutely not sleep in those beds.

Then I would see a blur of a man passing by. Through the glass door to the bedroom, walking down the hall. In front of me. Behind me.

The lodge had been split in two, and the neighbors had lived there for ages. I asked about the beds, and the man, and they told me that when no one was living there, they could hear someone playing the upright piano in the living room.

I don’t believe in ghosts.