The first house Paul and I bought in 1968 was a small two-bedroom bungalow that had been built in the 1930’s. We know the man that sold us the house said his wife had died there from something like cancer. I can’t remember just what it was. The house had a bedroom in the front of the house with one corner of the room that was always ice cold no matter what the weather. Summer or winter it was just that one spot. Always that icy cold feeling. Then we would have the cupboard doors in the kitchen open when no one was out there and stuff would come flying out. Happened numerous times so it wasn’t just a fluke. One night we were sitting in our living room watching TV and it was quiet just the two of us. We had this desk with a hutch that sat against a wall at the other end of the room. All of a sudden this BB gun that had been on the very top shelf and pushed to the back came flying off the top and fell to the floor. There was no doubt that it wasn’t on the edge because we had a toddler in the house and made sure it was pushed to the back and out of sight. There were other little incidents like that and I was never comfortable alone in that house.

Submitted by Mik