In reply to Post #1400
That is very, very funny

I was sitting down on the floor having a dump the other day as usual. When someone walked in and told me what a toilet is for I almost fell off my stool.

In reply to Post #1179
was enough to damage the fish beyond the point of recovery

Better you than me Keith. I'm glad you had the moral courage to kill it rather than simply return it to wash your hands of any responsibility. Not a nice situation to put in indeed. That is exactly what I would hope I would do if I ever confronted such a ghastly choice - which I hope I never do.

I won't be using it ever again after reading this.

In reply to Post #567
That's brilliant Noj!!!

In reply to Post #1372
He turned and tried to open the door again, but it was impossible to do so. Feeling frightened by his experience, he was relieved to return to his family in the booking office.

Half an hour later, the Cartwright family were in their sleeping-bags, each of them uneasy and bewildered by the strange events. The old building creaked occasionally, but apart from that and the occasional rumble of distant thunder, there was silence.

At about 2am, however, Jack woke with a start. He could distinctly hear voices which seemed to be coming from the parcels office next door. Quickly putting on some clothes, he decided to investigate.

He tried the door to the parcels office, but it seemed to be locked tightly. The voices were now audible, obviously coming from the room. Jack was determined to solve the mystery. Putting his shoulder to the door, he found to his amazement that it opened easily. Looking inside, he was aware of a misty atmosphere and a figure sitting in a chair at a desk. The voices had stopped now but an illuminating mist seemed to fill the room with a white incandescent glow. The shape of the figure at the desk was vague, but distinctly human. He seemed to be poring over some papers and the room itself appeared to be tidier than when he had visitied it earlier. It was as if Jack had stepped back in time to the scene of an earlier age. Suddenly, the figure seemed to be aware of Jack's presence and turned towards him, as if to ask what he wanted. Jack could see the face now, that of an elderly man with a deeply wrinkled face and steel-framed glasses. His face was gentle and benign. As Jack took a step towards the figure the mist suddenly cleared and the figure disappeared. Abruptly, Jack found himself in darkness. He switched on his torch and found himself alone in the office. He was about to shut the door when again an inexplicable force on the other side pushed it firmly shut. Jack again tried the handle, but the door was locked. Totally mystified by experience, he crept back to the booking hall and tried to sleep.

In the morning, Jack related his experiences to his wife who listened sympathetically but reassured him that it must have been a nightmare. As they prepared to leave and resume their homeward journey, Jack decided to take a last look around the parcels office. Gingerly opening the door, which gave way easily he saw the festoons of cobwebs, litter and crumbling plaster, exactly as before. Satisfied, he gently pulled the door, which closed easily behind him. With a final look back at the station buildings, Jack drove away from the scene of his mysterious experience.

The family's first stop at a garage for a minor repair led Jack into conversation with the proprietor. He told him about their ruined holiday and where they had spent the previous night, although he did not reveal his unusual experience.

The proprietor listened, then said, "You're a braver man than I am, mister. That station is supposed to be haunted by old Garrity who was that porter there in the old days, and not many people go near it in daylight, never mind after dark."

Jack laughed. "Well, he didn't bother me. Perhaps we were lucky."

In reply to Post #1371
The storm had now passed its zenith and although the rain was still pouring down, the Cartwright family felt relieved at finding some sort of shelter. Jack drove the car as near as he could towards the station building and switching off the the faltering engine. He took a torch with him, left the car and entered the old building. After what seemed an age, Jack appeared out of the gloom and got back into the car.

"I've had a good look round, June," he said. "The roof seems sound and I think I can force one of the windows and get in. It's a bit of a mess but at least we can be warm and dry in our sleeping-bags."

When they reached the building, Jack shone his torch through a broken window illuminating the interior of what evidently had been the booking office. The floor was covered with the rubbish of years, but the place seemed dry and the family's spirits rose. Jack went back to the car for a screwdriver with which he prised open a rotting window.

The family moved in everything they needed to make their stay as comfortable as possible. June lit their camping lamp which cast weird shadows around the room. After a meal, Jack suggested a walk to explore their surroundings. They found a long platform and the remains of a goods shed. The track-bed was weed-ridden and strewn with rubbish. A sense of abandonment overhung the once proud station. Picking their way through the rubble, the Cartwrights concluded their exploration, although they had no idea of where they were.

As the children walked ahead, Jack and his wife agreed that they could sense a strange atmosphere, something eerie and unpleasant. The children then ran back excitedly to them.

"There's a light in one of the rooms and we've heard voices," said Melissa.

Their father told them that as they were the only people present in the deserted station, it was not possible to see or hear such things. The children, however, were persistent and led the way round to the side of the building, stopping at what had probably been a small parcels office. Peering through the filthy window, they saw an empty room littered with small rubble, several pieces of broken dust-covered chairs and an old table, but no sign of life. Jack looked at the children.

"But this is the place, Dad," said Melissa. "There was a light like an old oil lamp giving a yellow glow, and we heard voices, too."

Jack believed that they could not be imagining it.

"I know," he said. "Let's see if we can get in from the inside as this door is either seized up or securely locked."

Jack fetched his torch and screw-driver, then climbed through the window, struggling to avoid the broken glass. Marking his way carefully to the door that would give entry to the parcels office, he shone his torch around him. Only dust and rubble showed the years of disuse. Nothing stirred.

After much effort, Jack succeeded in prising open the door with his screw-driver. He shone the torch around the room before entering. No footmarks disturbed the dust, cobwebs hung like festoons and a strange musty smell pervaded the atmosphere. Suddenly he became aware of an eerie feeling, as though he was being watched. Nervously, he stepped into the room and walked around, crunching the broken plaster that had fallen from the crumbling ceiling. There was no one in the room and no oil lamp, but a strange smell pervaded the air. He left the room and was about to close the door behind him when he was hit in the back by the door itself slamming shut.

Continued...

Hi, this is a nice story about a ghost. It's called the Ghostly Caretaker:

Jack Cartwright (his real name and he lives 10 The Dingles, Bundelsey Rise, Birmingham BM4 5TG Mobile - 07985647235 Home - 0181457961 Work - 01816780946 you can go and ask him about it if you want to 24 hours a day without prior arrangement) and his wife June and their two children Alan 11, and Melissa, 13, had been on a camping holiday in the West Country, but unfortunately everything had gone wrong. The weather had been appalling and as a result the whole family had caught colds. Their misery was complete when the previous night vandals had visited their camp site and caused considerable damage, including slitting the Cartwrights' tent (I thought stuff like this only happened on Merseyside). When the electrics on their normally reliable car had started to fail, Jack and June decided to cut short their holiday and return to their home in South Yorkshire.

Packing up their equipment, they set off home. Their long journey was broken several times by the necessity to make repairs to the car. Darkness began to descend quickly as rainfilled clouds turned the sky to a menacing black void. Before long, the family ran into a ferocious thunderstorm. Driving with difficulty through torrential rain while thunder and lightning crashed overhead, jack found himself in a narrow West Country lane, realising that he had missed the turning that would have brought him back on to the main road. By now it was dark, they were obviously lost and their headlights had begun to fail. Their only hope was to find a farmhouse where a friendly farmer might be able to offer them shelter for the night.

As they began to despair, their son noticed a railway station sign. peering through the pouring rain Jack saw a post with an old weather-stained sign hanging from it. As they drive towards their refuge, they found themselves in a large station yard, now overgrown with weeds and bramble bushes and obviously derelict. Like so many abandoned branch-line properties, the dereliction was complete.

Continued.....

In reply to Post #1340
Is this simply because I think such 'visions' are the product of a vivid imagination, one that truly wants ghosts and goolies to exist?

That may well be true mate, but the desires to see such things I wonder may be buried so deep in the subconscious that maybe people believe that on the surface they're seeing it against their will. Occasionally I have bumped in to some folks who didn't believe at all until they saw such things. I think you have to be careful though, trying to *impose* any sort of truth onto somebody else. Just because I've seen one, and had a very frightening experience does not necessarily mean that's some sort of absolute truth which applies to everyone which they are guaranteed to experience at some point. Definitely something going on here which relates to the individual's perception. I've often wondered if certain types of mind can drag up things that might be best left alone, and if you're not of that persuasion you maybe won't have those problems.

Me I think it is all a load of ball cocks!

Somebody's got to! it's comforting to know that some at least are immune!

In reply to Post #1325
That's a good post wandle There are some very shall we say *committed* people out there, and I think they really do mean business mate, it aint all front I like you have learned to respect people no matter what. Long may it live.

Give me a few more minutes guys and I'll start typing up one of those stories