Costume Shop Spirit

I don’t remember when I wrote this story, but it includes a ghostly encounter I actually experienced.

Glancing around the room full of industrial sewing machines, fabric, costumes, patterns pinned to a wall, and cutting tables, I felt ready to drink black coffee. Several other costumers and I were working backstage later than usual. Since it was a summer stock theater, we worked sweat shop hours: six days a week, twelve hours a day. The hours sucked like a vacuum cleaner, but the pay was adequate. A glance at the coffee maker proved it was empty.

I stepped out into the hallway for a drink at the water fountain. The long, shadowy hallway outside the costume shop reminded me of a coal mine, especially since the time I saw a wooden cart barreling down the hallway, and it turned out to be a prop. Sometimes I thought the backstage hallway was a rabbit burrow — the walls and drab industrial carpet were dark brown like dirt. A long stretch of corridor, around the corner from the costume shop, reminded me of the tunnel people see during near-death experiences, especially since a bright light glowed around the corner.

Standing at the drinking fountain and gulping down more and more water, I sensed someone standing behind me. I figured they must want to use the drinking fountain too, so I finished quickly. Turning, I saw nobody standing behind me. My eyes teared up…