The Ghost in the Shed

Beginning Last June, I spent a week with my friend Angie on her farm in Michigan. We fished the gurgling creek and explored the hot hayloft. But when we flung back the shed door, I heard breathing.

Middle “Who’s breathing?” I muttered.

“You are,” Angie replied.

“Shhh! Hold your breath!”

We did, and we could hear something panting rapidly. Our eyes shot open.

“Shed ghost, if you are here,” Angie whispered, “knock three times!”