The Man On The Stair

It wanted my attention!

An icy breath of air hit me in the face, whispering something in my left ear.

I looked up at the staircase, narrow and active, only to see its black hair dangling over the banister, and its face blank.

I froze yet was intrigued.

Am I going mad?

I called out to it, "Who are you?"

Then it was gone.

I started to think it was the same thing that "pushed" the towels off the banister, even damp ones!

I called him "the towel man."

I am a "skeptic on the turn," although he’s long gone.

From Guest Contributor Tanya Fillbrook