The Ghost Of Annie Ross

[Blue Dolphin]

Closed for sharingfantasies and I.

OOC

Calum Donald, 32, and works in a merchant bank in the city of London,


IC
As I crossed the new road bridge, finally driving onto the Isle Of Skye, and I reflected, upon what it was that had brought me here, now, at this moment in time.

It was just over a year since that dreadful day when both of my parents had perished in a car accident. A year that had seen me, Calum, their only child, completely change my lifestyle
After ten years working in the city, I had finally got out of the rat race. Hopefully to write novels, about the corruption and sex, that was rife in the Merchant Banks of London.

I was lucky that Mom and Dad left a will, and I got everything, as their only child.
The cars, the bank accounts, but mainly the large sprawling house in Chelsea. The same house that I had just sold for £3 million. Once that the house was on the market, after quitting my job, I came up here, to Scotland. Looking for a property, I wanted to live in relative peace and tranquillity.

I looked at a few houses, large and small, before visiting Skye, and falling in love with the place. And it was here also that I found Ross Cottage.
A beautiful two story thatched cottage, hundreds of years old, but sadly neglected. It had not been lived in since the `1940`s, and was virtually derelict. Which meant I got it cheap, enabling me to spend thousands, getting it exactly as I wanted it. The cottage had been gutted first, and totally renovated.
Turning the second bedroom into my office, and making the Master bedroom en suite. All of my new high tech equipment was installed there;

Stopping the car outside the door, and turning off the engine, I looked up at the windows, wondering about the history of this place. Determining that once my first novel was complete, I would do some research. Then, leaving the Mercedes where it stood, I went to the door, and slid the key into the lock. The door of my home, the very first home that I had ever owned completely.

I stepped inside.

 

[sharingfantasies]

Annie heard the sound of one of those automobile things and ran to the window to look out. It was a fancy one for sure, much different than the ones that the old couple who used to live here drove and surely different than the few others she had seen over the years go by the window of the cottage. Annie twitched the long skirt of her dress as she watched the man get out of his vehicle and get some bags. She could only see the top of his head but his hair was the same color of her dear Alexander's. Although it had been nigh onto 300 years since she had last seen him, she knew that he was out there roaming in the lands of Isle Skye just as she was wandering the limits of this house. If only they had both died in the same place, but Annie hadn't known about the life she would lead after death, she had only known the despair of Alexander's death, his wrongful death. As if Alexander would have committed arson of all things. She had loved him truly most especially for his definite sense of right and wrong. If only she hadn't caught the eye of Squire MacDonough, if only she had not had black ringlets and green eyes, if only Squire MacDongough hadn't decided he would have her over Alexander's dead body, literally. if only she had known that after death a body was trapped where it died, if only... Annie sighed deeply. Somehow, someway her Alexander would find her and release her from her prison.

A prison that was pretty darn spiffy these days. After all these years of watching other people move into her house and change it to their likings, she had almost had her heart broken when the old couple had died and the house, her house built with Alexander and her hands of the stone so easily acquired here on the Isle, had been left to crumble and decay. True the stone walls had withstood time and the elements but the interior had slowly rotted, furniture filled with animal nests and curtains fraying at the windows, despite her efforts to keep the place somewhat clean. She had done pretty well until about twenty years after the old folks had died when something clogged the pipes that led into the kitchen, a real convenience she did think, and she hadn’t been able to pipe water into the house any more. Then the dust began to collect and the decay set in and all Annie could do was watch in sorrow as her beautiful cottage became a shell of a building. Then out of nowhere suddenly workers had started showing up and there was so much noise and dust and constant motion that Annie had had to retreat to the old rocking chair in the little dormer attic. When all the dust had settled and the men were gone, she had gone downstairs to find that her little cottage was no longer a little cottage. Yes the walls were the same but outside of some basic furniture like beds and tables, there was nothing there that Annie recognized.

She had been used to changes as different families moved in over the centuries, but these things Annie couldn’t even begin to guess at their use. Annie felt almost as depressed as she had the night the men had dragged Alexander off to the village square and hung him. If she could have died she would have gone to the top of the staircase and hung herself again. There was shiny metal and glass everywhere and no creature comforts of soft materials, cut flowers, dark woods to be seen. How anyone could find a home like this comfortable was beyond Annie’s thinking. She stood at the attic window and looked down at the head of the man who would now be sharing space with her. She wondered how long he would live and if she would still be there when he died or moved on.

“Well,” she said brightly her voice silent in the room, “at least I shall have a little company after all these years. And maybe,” her green eyes twinkled, “I can have a little fun. No point being a haunt if I can’t haunt someone.”

With a grin that would have shown a great deal of Annie’s personality, if the grin could be seen, Annie moved from the attic to the second floor to peer over the balustrade at the front door.

 

[Blue Dolphin]

Calum

Closing the door, I turned back into the house, my eyes drawn inexplicably to the stairs. My gaze wandered upwards, to where they turned at a ninety degree angle.

Suddenly, for a moment, I felt terribly cold, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up, as a shiver ran through me. I hesitated for a fraction of a second, before , dismissing any untoward thoughts from my mind, as I opened the door to the lounge and entered. The designer that I had employed, to change things to my liking had done a good job.

All the walls perfectly smooth, and painted a pristine white. The plasma TV, hanging on the wall, the cinema sound system in place, and yet unobtrusive. She had left me a note, on the coffee table, which I decided to read after my inspection. Of course non of my personal effects were here yet, the small truck carrying them was still about 90 minutes away, so I had plenty of time. The kitchen was perfect for my needs, with a full stock of food and beverages already in place. Thanks to Mrs McKay, who would come in three days a week, to clean for me, and do do my laundry. The small extension to rear of the cottage housed the laundry that she would use, while her husband took care of the gardens.

I moved upstairs, the coldness of earlier forgotten, for now I was excited, starting out on a great adventure I hoped. The bedroom was tastefully decorated, and the king size four poster bed looked completely at home there.

Finally, I entered the second bedroom, my office. A brand new state of the art computer was set up there, along with printers, and filing cabinets. Bookshelves also, empty for now, but soon to be filled to capacity.
Smiling to myself, I returned to the lounge, and opening up the cocktail bar, I poured myself a generous amout of Glenmorangie single malt.
Sitting down on the white leather leather coach, I quietly made a toast to myself.
"Well Calum, you did it, good luck, and good fortune also."

 

[sharingfantasies]

Annie watched the tall man enter the cottage. His frame filled the doorway and for a moment she was reminded of Alexander coming home. Her heart lurched and she moved back to the attic. She had plans to make for teasing the new tenant. She wanted to be careful because, truth be known, she didn't want to scare him out. Despite the cold, sterile atmosphere he had created what used to be a warm, homey cottage, he was another person. And it had been a long long time since Annie had been around another human being. She spent her days watching the people walk past the house, watching the shocking changes in clothing and attitude. Really people these days wore the most outrageous clothes, walking around almost naked. Although there were times when Annie sort of envied them. Wearing three petticoats over her wool dress sometimes seemed a bit overkill. She would never tell anyone but sometimes in the summer when it was hot and stuffy in the old place she would strip down to her shift and just wear that for a bit. Her clothes though were starting to fall apart as the weather took its toll. It had been easier with running water, even now, Annie looked down at her dress, the last one that still had a bit of ribbon on it, the dress wouldn't last much longer. She had been so excited when the workmen had left and there was real running water in the place again. But she didn't think the clothing she had would last too many more washings. Perhaps tonight, when she took human shape she would see if she could borrow some clothes from the new tenant.

It was hard to find clothing to fit Annie, her body lush and rounded as was the perfect shape for 1745, when Alexander had asked her to marry him. Now it seemed the women were taller but so much thinner as if in growing those extra inches they had stretched their skin to the maximum length. She wondered if men actually liked all that skin and bones, but she supposed they must, for no matter which century had come and gone, women were women and men were men and the two would always be trying to attract the other. Just, she laughed, like the wee animals and birds that played in and near the cottage. There was one pair of robins that she had watched return every spring to lay a new nest of eggs. She had seen that same family return and procreate an new generation for hundreds of years. If she spoke bird talk, oh the stories she could have told.
Annie laughed as her mind wandered. It did that often, with no one to talk to but herself. She sat in the rocker and rocked back and forth, as she had been doing for hundreds of years, watching out the window for her Alexander.
Eventually the sun moved and Annie blinked, bringing herself back to today. She had been weaving stories, bird stories in her mind of the different robins and the adventures they had had with other animals and humans over the years.

Chuckling at the memories, she decided it was time to go take a look at the human now living within her walls. Although in some ways it was a shame that he had moved in so soon. Once the workers had left, Annie had explored and found a most glorious bathtub. Or perhaps it was some kind of indoor wading pool, like Annie had heard they had down in Edinburgh in the rich people's fancy houses. But with the return of running water to the cottage, Annie had been spending hours soaking in the pool. It had taken her so long to wash off standing in the corner of the kitchen where the roof leaked during a rainstorm to get enough water to clean herself. And, Lord, the times when there was no rain, the dirt seemed to just seep into her pores. But, she thought cheerfully, there was a human again so running water was at hand. Really, people had invented some wonderful things over the years.

Standing up, Annie shook out her dress and considered the idea of poaching some clothing from the new tenant. The man seemed to be large enough that perhaps she could borrow a shirt, and use it in some fashion over her petticoats. Ah it would feel good to have new clothing, and wouldn't that just be the most hilarious sight to see him rushing around looking for it? Of course, she would only be able to wear it when she was in her human form or in the attic. His shirt wouldn't disappear as her body did, but she bet it would be a surprise to him if his shirt came walking up to him. Laughing out loud, the sound light and tinkling like water running over the rocks, Annie clapped her hands over her mouth.

With her green eyes dancing merrily she held her hands out in front of her and pretended she was holding a shirt making it dance in the air while trying to picture the look on the man's face. It dawned on her that she hadn't seen his face yet. And the curiousity outdid her fun, and she let her arms drop to her sides. And decided it was time to explore. Time to see what the new tenant was doing she decided.

 

[Blue Dolphin]

Calum

It wasnt too long before I heard the removals truck stop outside, and the door slam. Putting down my empty glass, I moved to the front door, and opened it.
Pleased with myself, that I had chosen a company of some repute, that had provided me with boxes, and labels. This meant that I did not have to say where each box needed to go. A simple, but very effective service, which worked very well.

An hour later the movers left, with a £30 tip in their pocket, no doubt to be spent in some pub, as they had to stay overnight in Skye.
I sighed silently, for now my work really began, the emptying of the boxes, and putting things away.

Istarted in the Masdter bedroom, underwear and socks in the drawers. Suits jackets, trousers and shirts in the wardrobe. Then the boxes had to flattened, ready for collection the next day. The movers would come for them at 8am, prior to driving back to London.

Next came my office, mainly books in there, but, a lot of books, reading had been a hobby since early childhood. Luckily for me, all the programs required on my computer, had been installed by the designer, money well spent I thought, perspiring heavily, as I moved all the books.

Finally I went back downstairs to the lounge, and started work on my music and DVD collections. Racks for both had been built in, as part of the design. The difficult part was putting them into alphabetical order, as I had just more or less thrown them in the boxes when packing.

It took quite a while, with me working away diligently, until only 6 DVD`s remained. This was my porn collection, and not for general viewing by any visitors I might have. I placed them in a drawer, at the back, and closed it.

I was tired by now, and very hot and sticky, so I trotted back upstairs, into the bedroom. Before stripping naked, ready for my shower, I chose some clean clothes, laying them out on the bed. Once done, I smiled to myself, standing there, asnaked as a jay bird.

This was what I had wanted, peace, tranquility, no hustle or bustle of traffic, no fumes, just silence.

Stepping into the shower, I turned on the water.

 

[sharingfantasies]

Deciding to start on the ground floor, Annie realized that his boxes had come and he had unpacked while she was lost in her reverie about birds and baths and clothes. He had a lot of stuff, gadgets that made no sense to her, like the picture on the wall that was blank or a bunch of black boxes with labels on them. She thought about looking inside, but decided to wait until later. While she could move things or open them, it was easier when she was in human form. As she read the labels on the boxes, she realized that he had taken the time to alphabetize them. She grinned. Oh, he was going to be fun to play with.

She went into the kitchen and looked at the shiny things there. This man was really into metals and shiny things. It was so cold and sterile that she shivered. She pulled open the icebox and was surprised to see it was full of food. Last night she had spent a few minutes trying to figure out where the block of ice went but look as hard as she did, she still couldn't figure it out. She had learned about iceboxes from the older couple and the people before them. She sure wished they had thought of that idea when she was cooking for Alexander. Going out to the small cave that Alexander had dug into the peat worked pretty good for keeping the milk and cheese fairly fresh, but it didn't work as good as an icebox. With the door still open she looked some more but she just didn't see any space big enough for the block of ice. Come to think of it, she couldn't remember the last time she had seen the ice wagon come by. Of course now that those automobile things were so popular it was possible that the iceman delivered his ice in one of the bigger boxier automobiles. It would be interesting to see how this worked the next time the ice was delivered. She shut the door so the ice wouldn't melt and then wandered into the parlor again.

She shook her head again at the sterile setting as she went up the stairs and into a room full of all sorts of odd contraptions. The books she recognized and she went to see if any of them were ones she had read. One of her favorite pastimes in the past was to spend her human hour reading. Although a couple of times she had dropped the book when she changed from human form. She chuckled with the memory. Again the books were in alphabetical order. How strange. If they were her books she would organize them by subject matter. There were a couple of authors she recognized, Shakespeare who had done all those crazy plays she heard some of the girls from the MacLeod castle talking about as they went on their way shopping in the small shops of the village. They had been to Edinburg and seen one of the plays.

Sometimes Annie wondered if any of her old friends were trapped in their homes or shops. Wouldn't it be something if Alexander showed up and freed her and they could visit with the others? Of course that would mean that they had died by murder or suicide or other Godless ways. Annie had known that she was breaking God's laws when she took her own life but at the time she just didn't care. Dying was better than ending up in Squire MacDonough's bed and without Alexander life would have been horrible. Still it would have been nice if people had talked about this haunt stuff more. She really would have preferred to haunt the village square with Alexander.

Sighing, she moved into the bedroom listening to the water run. That was on her list for tonight, she wasn't even going to wait for him to go to work, that fancy giant bathtub was her date for the evening. She was curious about that big box with the water pipes, but she figured she would find out how that was used eventually. There were so many new things to learn about and Annie had always been a curious one. It was thanks to Squire MacDonough's wife, the poor dear, that the village had had a school for the youngsters of the isle. Not all the parents approved, but Annie's father hadn't cared what she did since she was a girl and her mother felt that the more knowledge a person had the better life they could lead. So Annie had attended the village school for three years. Had she been a boy, perhaps her father would have found a way to send her to the University at Edinburgh. She would have liked that but of course women didn't attend the university. Had the Squire's wife not had her own upstarting ways, then Annie wouldn't have been able to attend the village school either. After all, every village had a school, but not for girls. Annie had always wondered how the grossly fat squire had caught himself such a beautiful woman. Probably killed off her father or husband like he did my Alexander I imagine, she thought.

Ah well, memories were fine but it would be nice to make some new ones. She hadn't had an opportunity to learn anything new since the old folks had passed on. Not, she giggled softly, unless you count the lovemaking that went on among the young folks that would sneak in the back way and have picnics in the parlor area, talking such silly nonsense about ghosts and all. Well, really, a girl has to have a little fun.

Annie heard the water stop and knew it was time to go, but she really wanted a look at the new owner but still it would be in bad form to pop her head into the room and take a look at the man as he bathed, wouldn't it? Yes, it would. So Annie decided to have a seat in the comfortable chair by the window. Ah, the cottage had such wonderful views of the countryside and loch. Settling into the chair, she tucked her feet up under her and bent her arm, resting her elbow on the arm of the chair and her head on her hand. She really was a curious sort, she knew. But if they were going to be sharing living, well space anyway, she giggled again, she ought to know who she was sharing her cottage with. She wondered if there was a missus that would be joining him soon. She wondered where the young ones would have their rendevous picnics. She was pretty sure he wasn't going to let them continue in the parlor. She wondered what his name was. Later tonight when she was having fun, she would snoop through his letters and figure it out.

She sat up straighter as the door opened and steam came out. She promised herself once again, that after the new laird was asleep, she would settle into that steamy room herself. Meanwhile, she stretched out her neck craning to see around the door as the man entered the room.

 

[Blue Dolphin]

The shower was good, not too hot, and an excellent force of water peppering my skin. And, it happened, as it always did. the moment the hot streams of water hit my genital area, I got a hard on. I always did, for as long as I can remember. Mind you, on past occasions, when I had female company, it had proved to quite foruitous. I soaped myself thoroughly, washing off all the grime that was London. Washing off my past life really I suppose.

After rinsing off, I dried myself, and used my deodorant liberally, before dropping the towels, and my dirty clothes into the laundry basket in the corner. There were no houses here to overlook mine, no roads running by outside my door. So I walked naked back through to the bedroom, enjoying the freedom that my new location provided. My cock still bouncing a little, but gradually returning to normal.

Leaving the t shirt that I had chosen on the bed, I picked up the silk boxers, and put them on, before moving next door, and turning on the computer. I logged into the chatroom that I visit regularly, under my name of "The Laird", a tribute to my Scottish ancestory.
It was quiet, not many people online at all, so I went to look at a contact site that had drawn my attention recently.

In London, sex had never been a problem, there were many unattached single females, happy too spend the night with a well off eligible batchelor, as I was. OK, my parents were not too happy at times, but I did OK. It would be a different matter up here in SCotland, on this little island. But much to my great surprise, it seemed there were quite of number of ladies, in the West of Scotland, looking.
Wanting no strings attached relationships for sex, some married women as well among them. I thought that eventually, I might well be talking to one or two of these ladies, but not yet. Apart from the fact that the feelings in my groin were returning, at these sexual thoughts. I needed to organise my notes for my book.

Two hours later, I was happy, everything in its place, and a place for everything.

I went back to the bedroom, and finished dressing. I was getting hungry, but did not feel much like preparing anything yet. I remembered passing a pub, that served food till 9PM, I left the copttage, locking the door secuerly, before setting off on the half mile or so walk to the pub.

 

[sharingfantasies]

Annie had been watching curiously to see what he looked like but she made one small mistake. He was taller than she thought so her first sight of him was not his face but his very broad, very male chest. Without conscious thought, she swallowed hard, and her eyes followed the line of hair that led to...Oh my, she thought, oh my. She swallowed again, her fingers covering her mouth. She hadn't seen a body that looked like that since...since... since Alexander.

Her face flushed, her breathing erratic, Annie left the room and went back to the attic. It wasn't until she was back in her chair that she realized she never did see his face. It was such a shock to feel those sensations coursing through her body. She hadn't felt the flush of arousal in centuries. Which made her wonder why. Why this man, at this time. Over the centuries there had been at least fifteen different families that had come and gone and some of the men had been quite nice looking. But never, not once had she felt that lurch down low in her body. So, why this man?

As she rocked, her mind went back to those nights in bed, in Alexander's arms. She had been so nervous that first night but he had been so careful, so patient. His touch had made her so hot she had pushed the blankets down to his amusement and delight. His touch, oh his touch, she hadn't known she could feel that way. And then there was the next night and the next, each night better than the one before it. She had loved touching him with her fingers and her mouth. She remember the night he had touched her where she didn't know anyone could touch a person, her body starting out in shock as he had pressed into the tight hole, his body behind hers, covering her as he whispered encouragement, told her how he loved her, and then after the first moments of discomfort, oh the heat, the incredible heat. She had reached the pinnacle at such a high peak, she had screamed and Alexander had clapped his hand over her mouth to muffle the sound, even as he shouted out his own release.

Annie could feel her body tingling, swelling and she found herself pressing down on that long forgotten place as if pressing there would relieve the aching she was feeling. Her nipples harden and pressed against her shift, so tight that the slightest breath made them scrape against the material. She pressed her fist tighter against the vee between her legs as she rocked, her head back against the back of the rocker. Her breathing deepened as she rocked. Her breast rising and falling with the deeper breaths, she rocked faster and faster as her agitation rose, until with a short cry she sank deeper into the chair, panting, her body floating as she recalled the sound he made, the gutteral moan as his own body gave up control and he filled her.

It was several moments later before she opened her eyes, a soft smile on her lips, a blush of embarrassment on her cheeks. She closed her eyes and drifted into a shallow sleep. Remnants of her time with Alexander still making her sigh in her dreams.

 

[Blue Dolphin]

While I enjoyed the meal in the pub, "The Shepherd`s Crook", there was an atmosphere about the place. Everyone was nice, saying hello, and welcoming me to Skye, but, something was not right here.
Once or twice I heard someone say
"Och aye, the Ross place, doon the road there"

I looked up at where the voice came from, eyes turned away, and it went silent. I must admit it confused me. Maybe it was my English accent, and they resented my being there. They were not to know that in reality I was a Scot, through and through. I made a mental note to ask Mrs McKay about it when she called the next day.

I left the pub around 10, after washing the meal down with a glass of beer. The sun had just set, it was still warm though, around 70, and there was a 2 day old new mon, hanging low in the sky. It was beautiful, sharp, and almost silver, against the darkening night sky.
"Is it an omen?" I wondered. "A new moon, for a new life, filled with promise of brighter things to come?"
I certainly hoped so, the stresses and pressures of city life, now having been lifted from my shoulders. No more deadlines to meet, or interminably boring meetings to attend.

I looked at my cottage as I approached, it certainly was beautiful, I had insisted that the external facade remained the same.Exactly as it had been for God knows how long. Even the PVC double glazing, had been made to look like the original windows. I stopped, just looking for a good five minutes, and then spoke softly.

"Well Ross cottage, you are mine now, and I will care for you, as much as I possibly can. And I hope that you will grow to love me, as much as I know that I will love you."

When I finished, I must admit, I felt a little stupid, talking to pile of bricks and mortar. But so what, this was my new life, I could do what I wanted now, and I meant to, regardless of what anyone says.

Stepping back inside the cottage, I went to the lounge, and considered watching TV, or a movie. It did not happen though, once I settled into the leather couch, I realised just how tired I reallywas. It had been a very long day for me, I had left London at 6am, a seven hour drive to get here, all the unpacking as well. Rousing myself, before I nodded off on the couch, I slowly made my wayupstairs to the bedroom. Popping into the en suite, to rinse my face, and clean my teeth, before stripping off all my clothes.

The four poster looked very inviting, and I climbed on, leaving the drapes around it open. I lay anked, the new moon just visible at the bottom of the window, as I closed my eyes, and drifted off to sleep.

 

[sharingfantasies]

Annie woke up suddenly, startled for some reason. Perhaps it was the dreams of her nights with Alexander or perhaps there had been an owl hooting in the night. She remembered the new resident and listening carefully but it was quiet and still in the house. She got up and looked out the window. The tiny sliver of moon was high in the sky. It was time, she thought gleefully, for a bath.

Heading down to the next floor, Annie moved to the bedroom door. She would have to be careful, she didn’t want to disturb the air and wake him. Sure she wanted to tease him later but she didn’t want to frighten him away, at least not until she knew what kind of man he was or rather, what kind of roommate he was. She moved past his bed quietly, he was sleeping on his side facing the window, a large mound under the sheet. It was too warm for blankets and he had pushed them down to the bottom of the bed.

Annie stepped into the bathroom, still curious about the large container in the corner, and froze in place. Out of the corner of her eye she had seen something more. Slowly turning her head, she giggled softly, she had seen herself. She was in that half human, half not stage where she was visible but transparent. With a shake of her head, she turned on the water, admiring again the possibilities of indoor running water. So different from filling a bucket at a time at the well. Which she smiled in amusement was a very good thing considering the size of this bathtub. It was more like pictures she had seen of those baths ancient Romans had used. Well maybe not that big but definitely bigger than the slipper tub in which she had bathed in front of the fireplace downstairs in the kitchen.

The air turned warmer as the heat rose from the tub and Annie sighed with pleasure as she removed her dress, three petticoats a shift. The water seeped into her dry skin and she lay back so that all but her head was under the water. She could almost feel the water working the dust from her skin. She dipped her head under the water then slid up into a sitting position, wiping the waist long ebony hair from her eyes. The water dripped down her back and chest, dripped off the edge of her dark pink nipples, making her sigh with memories. Leaning back against the side of the tub, she remembered how much Alex had enjoyed her bathtime. Until she met him, she had bathed once a week which was more often than was customary, but Annie had always enjoyed a good soak in the water. Alex had enjoyed her time so much, that he often volunteered to drag in the buckets of water and heat them, just so he could see the look of delight on her face as she soaked. Of course, Annie suspected it was more so that he could look at her body as she soaked. She had always taken her bath while wearing her shift, as any decent woman would, but Alexander had insisted that she was able to get cleaner if she bathed without it. As in so many things Alexander had wanted from her, she was embarrassed at first. When she had asked him why he liked her bathing that way so much, he had leaned over the tub and licked the droplets of water from her nipples and suddenly Annie liked bathing that way also.

Alexander had taught her to enjoy what he did to her, with her, had her do to and with him. And Annie had taught Alexander how to smile more, how to sit and watch the clouds sail by, how to dance in the rain, and how to watch for fairy rings among the trees. They had had a remarkable marriage that had grown stronger as the year had gone by.

Annie used the soap that was there, wishing for some of her violet soap, although she admitted this soap was softer on the skin. She cleaned her skin and washed her hair, then carefully wrung her hair dry. Quickly drying off her body, she twisted the towel around her hair, and then stepped out of the tub and put her clothes into the water. Squishing the water through the clothing repeatedly, she could see the water changing as the dust rinsed from her dress. Her muscles weren’t as strong as they were when she had labored over the wash tubs for an entire day washing her clothes and those of Alexander. But still, while in human form, she was able to do the job justice. She piled the wet clothes up, and then drained the tub, which despite its size worked similar to the small tub the old couple had used.

The mirror showed that she had completely come into human form and she glanced at the mirror taking in her body. Overly large breasts which had embarrassed her with their size, especially when compared to those of the other girls in the village. They had always been a source of discomfort ever since boys had begun to make rude comments about them and her when she was fifteen. She had learned to dress in ways that minimized their size but still she had been harrassed by some. They had also made it difficult for her to make friends with other girls, but she had, ignored the comments of those that were of a more acceptable size, and made friends with those that didn’t characterize a person by the size of their body parts.

It hadn’t helped that the tips of her large breasts were so sensitive, that the lightest touch could make her gasp. Carrying books or a load of clothes on her hips meant accidentally brushing against the tips and that would make her jerk in reaction. The night of their marriage, when Alexander had removed her nightgown, she had tried to cover them up so he wouldn’t be disgusted with the size of them, but he had held her hands to her side and just looked and looked. She had turned red from the top of her head to the tips of her bosom, and Alexander had lifted his eyes and looked into her, and her lips parted in surprise at the look in his eyes. Then he had whispered softly, “Oh God, Annie, they are more beautiful that I suspected.” And he had leaned his head down and kissed each one and she had moaned. She wasn’t sure if she was more shocked at the fact that he had kissed her there or that she had moaned out loud. But she was definitely shocked when he had left go of her hands and move down on his nipples, and used his hands to press her breasts together. Then he had put his mouth on both nipples at the same time and sucked deeply, and she had arched up off the bed, and cried out into the room as heat seared her between the legs.

Alexander had lifted his head, his eyes smiling possessively, and then he had down it again until her body was shaking, writhing under his, and when he whispered, “Let go, Lassie, explode for me Annie,” She had done just that and as she did, he thrust into her slowly, past the barrier and into her heart. And then he had moved until they had exploded together.

Annie shook herself, amused that she was still standing there, her mouth open, breathing hard. What was it with all these memories lately, she wondered. She hadn’t thought of these in many years. Mostly when she thought of Alexander it was of them working side by side or of the night he had been arrested or the night he had been hung. But she had been having very intimate memories lately, and that was odd.

As she moved into bedroom, she paused, checking to see if the man in the bed was still asleep. Then she moved to his bureau and set the pile of wet clothes on top. Slowly sliding open the drawers she searched for his night shirt. She needed something to wear while her clothes dried. In one of the drawers she found a soft white shirt and slipped it over her head. The material was so soft against her skin, that she stood there for a moment, just savoring the sensation.

The man shifted and she froze, slowly turning to face him. He had turned over onto his back and was shifting his feet until they were sticking out from beneath the sheet. Although the window was open, it was warm in the room, the summer nights cooler than the days but still uncomfortably warm. It reminded Annie that she hadn’t seen his face earlier, so she waited for him to settle in, and then moved very slowly towards the window side of the bed. She was careful not to disturb the air as she leaned over his body to see his face. It was more Scotsman than Englishman, high cheekbones, long sculpted cheeks with creases that she knew without seeing would deepen when he smiled. A slight cleft in the chin below the wide mouth, that she was sure widened even more when he laughed. His eyes were wide set, honest eyes her mother would have said, and she wondered what color they were. There was a small scar near his chin and she wondered if he had cut it learning to walk, as so many children seemed to do. Even she had a little scar where she had tipped over onto the corner of a crate her father had been opening. He looked almost familiar, and Annie wondered if she had seen him before or if he might have been a son of one of the local families. Since the cottage was near a major road, she often watched the people walking or driving by.

Annie always had been curious and it often got her into trouble. As she leaned a little more to see if she recognized him, her towel unraveled and a corner fell down onto his chest. Annie grabbed the offending towel and fled the room, grabbing up her pile of wet clothing as she dashed past the bureau. She was up in the attic, her heart racing, pulse pounding before she had even had a chance to take a breath. She leaned against the door cradling the wet clothes to her chest as she gasped for air. Eventualy the wetness soaked through and she went about the room hanging up the clothing on the ends of wood studs or old wooden pegs that fit the logs of the roof together. Then she settled into her chair, and rocked, hoping she hadn’t frightened the man away and wondering why he seemed so familiar.

 

[Blue Dolphin]

I awoke to birdsong, slowly coming out of my deep sleep, the sweet sounds from outside reminding me immediately that I was on Skye, and not in London.
In London I would awake to traffic noises, buses, and trucks, starting their working day, and belching out filthy fumes everywhere.
I lay for a few minutes, eyes closed, luxuriating in the fresh, almost pristine air that filled my room Smelling the countryside that was all around me now. And then I heard a car approach, and quickly pass by the cottage, “was there no escape from the internal combustion engine” I wondered.

Looking at my watch, I saw that it was only 7.15, and realised that there was no need to rush. My time was my own now, to do with as I pleased.

I got out of bed, and opened a drawer, taking out some clean boxers, and slipping them on. I wanted to look out of the window, but I did not want to be seen naked, obviously. That indeed would give the locals something to talk about and no mistake.
Opening the window wide, I looked out, as far as I could see, towards the mainland of Scotland, breathing in deeply, taking in the scents and aromas that surrounded me.

Then, I froze momentarily, as a memory clawed its way across my mind, its claws digging deep into my soul.
I shivered.
And for a second or two, I could smell something else.

Damp earth, just like after a rainstorm, when all the flavours of the woodland, invade your senses. It changed, to wood smoke, and then it was gone.
Had I dreamed last night, a deep dark compelling dream, I was sure now that I had. But the only remnants that remained were the smells, could this really be?

I stepped back from the window, sitting down on the bed, closing my eyes, trying to climb back into the dream, if that was what it was, but to no avail. It was gone now, forever.

I moved to the shower, and very soon I was downstairs, and fully dressed, eating a light breakfast, cereal, and an apple to follow, washed down with some hot sweet tea. The McKay’s were due at 9am, and I would be ready for them. I cleared away my things, and washed and dried the dishes, before moving to the lounge. I realised that I had not yet checked out my new TV, the big plasma screen, and turned it on. The picture was impressive, large, and very sharp indeed. Flipping through the different channels, I finally settled on the Sky News channel.

In what seemed like no time at all, I heard a knock on the front door, and opened it, to greet the two people whom I guessed were the ones that I was expecting. They introduced them selves to me, as Fiona, and Ian McKay, she was small woman, turning grey, dumpy would describe her best, and in her mid fifties I thought. Ian was a typical Scot though, almost 6 foot all, carrying himself well, with a shock of sandy coloured hair.

After the usual small talk, he went out to look at the gardens, and let me know if he required anything for me to purchase in the way of tools. Meanwhile, I showed her the washing machine, and the instructions, also where everything was kept, the ironing board, the vacuum cleaner. Ian returned with a list, and Fiona made some coffee, as we talked some more.

I mentione dthe previous evening in the Shepherd’s Crook, and my feelings of an atmosphere in there, directed against me. I asked if it could possibly be resentment, because, even though I had been born in Edinburgh, a family tradition, they assumed that I was not a Scot. I saw the look that passed between them, it didn’t last long, bur nevertheless, it happened. It was Ian who answered me, although I must admit, he was not very convincing.

”They do say Calum, that there was a wee incident here once, two or three hundred years ago. But I am sure it is nay a thing to worry about.”

I smiled, before responding.

”Ah I see, so if I hear chains clanging, and banshees howling in the night, I don’t need to worry then.”

I chuckled at my little joke, but they just looked at me, with what seemed to be forced smiles.

Soon after that they left, the working days and hours all arranged. It had been pleasant to meet them, and yet strange, the comment about the “wee incident” had intrigued me, and I determined that at some stage, I would investigate further. Before then, I had other matters to attend to. Needing to drive into town.
There was my bank manager to meet, and a dentist and doctor to arrange. I also wanted the papers delivered daily.

I left the cottage at 11, driving leisurely away, a smile on my face, feeling very happy and secure with my new environment.

 

[sharingfantasies]

Annie was woken by the sound of knocking so out of curiousity she went down to sit on the staircase that overlooked the first floor. It was the same place she had been when the resident came yesterday. Was it only yesterday, she thought it seemed much longer. Yawning, she covered her mouth politely, as she listened to the conversation.

Hmm, okay, the other people were the McKays, and from the looks of them they were day help. Yes, Annie thought, right again in my guessing. Annie really didn't have much to occupy her time so she spent a lot of it watching other people go by the cottage, making up stories about them based on their expressions or clothing or even body language. She never knew if she was right or not, so it was a nice change to have one of her guesses turn out to be right.

Aha, the man's name was Callum, although she was sure if that was his surname or given name but she could learn that snooping through his mail later. Over the centuries, Annie had learned lots of ways to find out answers to her curiousity by eavesdropping and snooping. A girl has to learn somehow. She couldn't imagine going through the rest of her life, well time, without knowing SOME answers.

Remembering that she was supposed to be listening, Annie learned that the couple were a gardener and housekeeper. Annie decided that the man, Callum, must be pretty well off if he could afford day workers. Probably not rich, though, since he didn't have live-in help. Annie slapped her forehead, then quickly looked down to see if anyone had heard the sound, but she seemed safe. Annie, you goose, this cottage is too small for live-ins.

Shaking her head at her thoughts, she watched the two men leave for the yard. Curiously, she went down the rest of the stairs and followed the woman into the kitchen. Careful not to disturb the air as she moved, she hopped up onto the counter as the man returned and began to talk about the interesting equipment in the kitchen. Annie was especially interested in the drawer where the books were kept that explained how to use all this fancy stuff. She couldn't wait until the house was empty and she could experiment.

She was so startled when Callum brought up the idea of the house being haunted. It must have been the towel falling last night, she thought, but then, this was Scotland and surely many houses had ghosts after all these centuries. 'Twasn't as if she was the first person to kill herself. He has a nice laugh was her next thought as he laughed at the idea of chains and banshees.

As far as Annie knew banshees were just stories, like looking for fairy rings. Something one used to make up good stories or to scare children into not doing something, but she was very positive there was such a thing as ghosts, she grinned. So, Mr. Callum, doesn't believe in such things himself, does he? Her grin got larger, why I do believe I shall have so much fun with this man, that I shall be able to store up memories for the next twenty centuries.

Well, wasn't that a depressing thought.

Why was it taking Alexander so long to come free me, she thought in a moment of pique. The immediately regretted it as she apologized for the thought. I know he will come as soon as he is able, but oh, it has been so long since I have seen his beloved face, that I have trouble picturing him.

Sadly, Annie got down from the counter and trailed after the others as they said their goodbyes. One bit of news that Annie had gotten was their schedules, this was important as Annie didn't want to mess with anything if a housekeeper would clean it up before he could find her changes. That wouldn't be any fun at all. She didn't want to frighten the McKays and she could tell by their faces that they had a touch of the superstitious that was a part of the makeup of most Scots.

As she went back up the stairs, she made a mental note to read up on the instruction guides tonight. Annie loved playing with new equipment. It made her feel as if she was staying modern with the times. It was bad enough to be centuries old, but to not keep up with technology well, there was no good reason for that. Annie was glad that her body maintained the same age and shape that she had when she died. She wouldn't have wanted Alexander to come find a wizen old crane. Better still though was that after all these years her mind still worked. Annie couldn't imagine anything worse, than to have her mind start to go like old widow McCrombie's.

Annie rocked and listened to the sounds Callum made as he moved around the place. It was nice to have the place lived in again, she thought, but still nicer had he put some life in his decor. He was probably a cold, sterile man inside to match his cold, sterile decor.

She must have dozed off, rocking in the sunlight, as she was brought awake by the sound of the door shutting. Dashing to the window, she saw him drive away. Yes, she shouted, he is off to work. It is time to explore. With new energy, Annie headed downstairs.

First she went back to his bathroom to return the towel. Noticing how clean and organized the room was, she paused, one finger tapping her lips. Hmm, how shall we do this. She looked around the room carefully and then grinned widely. Walking to the mysterious box in the corner, she opened the door and tossed the towel on the floor. Giggling she closed the door once again. Let him try and figure that one out she thought.

Moving over to the bed, she lay down, with a sigh. Her chair was comfortable but sometimes she missed stretching out. She arched her body, and stretched like a cat, laughing as her spine popped a couple of times. The cover was luxurious and slick under her body, reminding her of the feel of stockings that hung in the ladies’ shop in the village, the ones the daughters and wives of the clan MacLeod would wear.

She slid across it a few more times enjoying the sensuous feel of the material, then decided to move on. Maybe later she would come back for a nap. Sliding off the bed, she laughed out loud, knowing there was no one to hear her, because her movements had left a small indentation that hadn’t been there when she came in.

Annie was still laughing as she left the room, the sound similar to the twinkling of water over the rocks in a small brook. Annie’s laugh was not only a delight to hear but was contagious as well. She heard a songbird outside the house and her delight grew. As she moved across the first level floor, Annie spread out her arms and spun in circles with delight. Despite the number of years she had been locked up in this place, she still had a young girl’s delight in life. Heading for the small black boxes, her target since she had first seen them, Annie spent the afternoon, moving them so that each shelf had titles beginning with different letters and the last two shelves held all the boxes that were duplicates but didn’t fit in the other shelves. That left the last two shelves holding a lot of titles that began with A and T.

Noticing that the shadow were long and low in the room, Annie was surprised to see by the clock on the shelf that she had been working, or was that playing, she grinned, for hours. Deciding that she had done enough damage for one day, she headed back up the stairs to his office. There she shuffled papers around from their neat piles until she found some of his correspondence. So, she wondered, his name is Callum Donald. Hmm, I wonder if he is a descendant of Gregor Donald, the haberdasher in town? I knew he looked more like a Scotsman than Englishman. Perhaps that is why he looks so familiar?

Leaving the papers in the disorganized pile, the envelope with his name on top, Annie looked at the equipment on his desk, lightly pushing at the buttons with letters on them. She pushed each key the way you would a pianoforte, one after the other, mind more on the books over the desk than on what her fingers were doing. She leapt back, her hand at her heart when she accidentally pushed a button that made a loud sound and suddenly a whirring sound. Lights came on and a picture appeared of the sun setting over Loch Lomond. Annie had never seen the loch, she had never been off Isle of Skye but she had seen paintings of it and pictures in the books she had read and so she recognized it.

Putting her hands behind her back for fear she might do something else unexplicable, she wondered why anyone would have a special box for a picture of the loch. Why not hang a painting of it on the wall? Why have this elaborate set up for a picture? It was very mysterious and Annie planned to find out the answer to this conundrum eventually. As she stood there contemplating the picture and the why of it, she gasped again when the picture suddenly disappeared. “I didn’t do THAT!” she muttered aloud, “my hands are behind my back. Oh, but I hope that I didn’t lose the picture forever, that would be awful.” Hesitantly, she approached the desk again. Placing her hand over her heart, she could feel it beating rapidly. With one finger, she reached out slowly, carefully, and began to push the keys again. Still, even though she had expected, no hoped to hear the loud sound again, when it came she jumped back, and watched. Sure enough the picture came again. “Oh, thank goodness! I surely didn’t mean to hurt anything.” When it disappeared again after a few moments, Annie stood there, finger tapping her lips. It would appear then that the box was so that he could look at the picture of the loch for brief periods of time, but bring it back at the push of a button. “Perhaps it is a toy of some kind. A plaything.” Annie knew from experience that men liked playthings even after they left their childhood. Alexander had a small wooden boat made of balsa wood that he had been given as a child, sometimes he would take it out by the brook in back and watch the boat sail downstream, chasing after it and laughing like a small boy, while Annie sat on the grass and watched. Sometimes when Alexander was in a playful mood at night, he would lean over her and kiss her and whisper, “Do you want to be my plaything, Lassie?” Then he would tickle and tease her until she begged him to enter her, all the while laughing as they rolled in the bed. Sometimes he would say that before he taught her something new. It seemed that Alexander had an unlimited supply of ideas that he wanted to explore, but sadly, his life had been taken before he had had time to explore all of them.

Annie stood there for a little while more making the picture appear and waiting for it to disappear, thinking of some of those ideas Alexander had wanted to explore. She could picture his body, feel him over her, but his face had faded with time. She remembered his long dimples that creased his cheeks when he smiled at her, and she remembered the heat of his eyes but not the color, although she knew they were blue, somehow with time they had faded, become less bright than she remembered. As each century passed, it became harder and harder to bring his image to mind, and that hurt. She didn’t want to forget. Hurry Alexander, hurry. Her mind cried out. Come before I can’t remember anything, come before I forget you completely.

Annie’s eyes filled with tears as she slowly went back upstairs to her chair. She missed him so much. She sat in the rocker and watched the sun set, tears sliding down her cheeks undisturbed.

 

[Blue Dolphin]

The day proved to be very fruitful for me, and the organisation of my life leapt forward in leaps and bounds. I had introduced myself to the bank manager, who was delighted to have another millionairre in his branch. He could not do enough for me it seemed. This was one of the pleasures of having money, as I was well aware. After leaving the bank, I rapidly arranged for a doctor, and a dentist, joined the local Fitness and Health club, and registered at the library.

I was on top of the world, euphoric almost, so much so that I forgot to enquire about the reference section in the library. I was inwardly confident that they would have information on the history of Ross Cottage. But I would be back, and you never knew, I might even find something on the Internet, it was worth a try I surmised. I ate while in a town, in a nice Italian place, and then called in at the local paper shop. A very nice lady in there seemed delighted at her new customer, and welcomed me to the island profusely, although I perceived the look again, about my address. My Scottish name seemed to help though, judging by her smile when she wrote it in her book.

It was well into the evening, by the time I returned home, and I felt that it really was my home now. A welcoming sight as I drove along the road, and the cottage came into view. My mind was on the internet, and checking my e mail, to see if I had any responses from the contact site. First though, I made a pot of tea, and grabbed a couple of chocolate biscuits, to take upstairs. Placing the tray on a small table, I moved to the computer, my hand brushing the space bar. To my great surprise, my desktop flashed up onto the screen. Had I left the PC on?
All night, and all day?
Surely not, I was always careful to turn a thing off, that was so not like me. But, I had been tired yesterday, so maybe I had I thought.

It was quiet, just the whirring of the fan in the tower the only noise, and I felt like a little relaxation, some music maybe. Logging in to hotmail, I went back downstairs to get a CD, something good, to while away an hour or so. I decided on Fleetwood Mac, their Greatest Hits. My favourite tune of all time being on theis CD, Albatross. I always closed my eyes when I heard it, to be ttransported to a tropical paradise somewhere. I went straight to the second shelf, knowing that there I would find the category for the letter "F". Then I swore.

"What the fuck is this, I sorted them, all of them, Jesus fucking Christ, now I have it all to do again."
I stood there looking at my CD`s, they were so mixed up, I was at a loss to explain it. I would never let that happen, I was meticulous about order, and tidiness. Eventually I found the Fleetwood Mac, and took it with me, deciding to sort them out first thing in the morning.

Slipping the disc into the systems CD player, I opened my inbox. Three replies it looked like, for The Laird. I opened them one at a time, all were from ladies, One in Ayr, and two close to Glasgow, they had read my profile, hopefully liked it, and contacted me, The system was good it seemed. Two were pleasant notes, saying that they were attracted by my profile, and would I like to respond, and tell them a little more about myself. But the third one, that left me speechless to be honest. From a married woman, whose husband wanted to see her have sex with another man. Her descriptions of what she liked were very graphic, as were the photos, of her naked on the bed, using sex toys.

This definitely was not what I was looking for, yes the photos were erotic, full open views of her sex, and they aroused me. But I preferred a one on one relationship, with some romance, and sensual lovemaking. No way was I into "wham bam thank you ma`am". I turned of hotmail, I would respond tomorrow, and closed my eyes, losing myself in the music. Then I shivered, it was weird, I could have sworn that something passed me, maybe even brushed my arm. My eyes opened wide, and I looked all around the room. Nothing, no one was here, just me, and my equipment.

I shivered again, as I logged on to Google, and typed in "Ross Cottage", but that drew a blank. So I tried the single word "Ross", and all i got was mostly genealogy stuff. Shrugging my shoulders, but knowing that eventually I would find out about this place and its history, I logged off.

After removing the CD I closed the PC down, making absolutely certain this time that it was off. I carried the tray back to the kitchen, and took the CD into the lounge, just dropping it on the table, as my frustration returned again at the mess before me.

Trying to blank off my mind to it, i watched the 10PM news on Sky, and then went to my bed, it was hotter tonight than last night, so I lay naked on top of the covers, my window and curtains open, having no fear of intruders here.

 

[sharingfantasies]

When the car slammed, Annie knew Callum was home. She was surprised to realize she had been waiting for him. She went down the flight of stairs just as he was entering his office. She put her hand over her mouth, when she giggled out loud at the look on his face when the picture came up. Although she was a little confused at why he was so surprised. Didn’t he buy the box with that picture on it?

Wait! What was that? He put his hand on the oval shaped thing and the loch disappeared and a different picture came up. The picture was writing. She stepped back when he suddenly jumped and left the room. Curious she followed and looked over the balustrade. Oh my! He was totally upset at his little boxes being out of order. He had a bad case of needing things organzied, she giggled softly. He found what he wanted and came up the stairs. So she followed him back into the office, wondering why, if the boxes were office material he kept them downstairs.

Back at the picture box, he did something that made more writing come up. She read over his shoulder. Saints preserve us? What kind of man was this? He had writing that talked about..about the private things between a man and his wife, and... oh lord in this case he had pictures of.... Annie closed her eyes. No wonder he had a picture of Loch Lomond on the box. Underneath those pictures he had THOSE pictures.

Annie’s shoulders dropped. She had liked the way he acted with the McKays, treating them respectively, even though they were just hired help. Not many Lairds would have treated them the same way. And she had liked teasing him, but this, this was something that somehow disappointed and hurt her. She drifted away and went upstairs. Somehow the pictures he kept on his box changed the way she felt about him.

She sat in the chair and rocked, contemplating why she was so disappointed in a man she didn’t really know. Perhaps it was just because they shared a house. Perhaps it was because she thought he would be open to sharing the house with her. She rocked and rocked and rocked as the moon traveled across the sky.

When the time came for her to change to human form, she thought about playing with him some more but somehow she didn’t feel like it. She went downstairs slowly, almost dragging as she went. She entered his bedroom only to find that it was warm there and that he was lying on top of the sheets. She stood over him, not even really thinking about his nudity, but just thinking about the man himself.

Och! But he was a fine specimen of a man. Long limbed, wide-shouldered, narrow waisted, and broad chested. She did so love the feeling of being held in a man’s arms against his strong chest. Annie was a strong woman, and she could take care of herself. But when Alexander held her, she felt safe and secure and loved. It would be a marvelous thing to feel that special feeling again. But this man, made play of all that God holds holy between a man and a woman. And that was such a shame. For this man had the look of a perfect husband but the mind of a letch. Now she saw him more as a resemblance to the squire and not Alexander.


Lifting her nose, she turned, giving him the proverbial “cold shoulder” and went back up to her chair. She would wait and see what he did for awhile and make up her mind about him as a house partner. But if this man ever tries to bring that type of activity into MY house, he will find out all about ghosts, she swore to herself.

 

[Blue Dolphin]

I woke early, just after 6, another beautiful morning, so I showered, and then decided to dress. I settled on a pair of shorts, and I would wear my white T shirt, white, my favourite color.

Opening the drawer, I looked, searched, lifted everything out, but it was nowhere to be seen. And I distinctly remembered putting it away. I sat on the bed, shaking my head, wondering just what was going on here. I would quiz the McKays some more when they arrived I decided. Then I had another idea, I would wear my Scotland football shirt also, to let them know that I definitely was a Scot, despite my accent.

Going downstairs, I remembered the shambles that was my CD collection, and spent the next hour reclassifying it, and double checking. Satisfied at last, I went to my office, and turned on the PC, at least that had not switched itself on again.
Checking my e mail, I discovered another one, from the lady who wanted her husband to watch. Then it happened again, the cold air, blowing across my forearm. I stopped dead, and looked around, almost saying, "Is someone here", but, realising how foolish that would be in an empty house. It was disconcerting though. I decided there and then, as soon as my e mail was sorted, i would start to log all of these happenings, for want of a better phrase.

Without opening the new photographs that this lady had sent me, I answered her mail. Declining the offer to meet them at the weekend, and politely saying I would prefer no further contact. That done, I opened Microsoft Word. and sat pondering for a moment, as to how I would do the log. At the top of the page I typed.

Ross Cottage????​

Just as I was about to continue, I heard the McKay`s car outside, leaving the screen open, I went to meet them. Once the pleasantires were over, and Fiona had started to clean, I followed Ian into the garden, asking to have a quiet word. He agreed, and also acknowledged the shirt I was wearing. I explained, that despite my English accent, I had been born in Edinburgh, as all children in our family had, since the family moved to London, in the mid 19th century. They had invested in railways, and made big profits, yet retained their heritage, by seeing to it that all children were Scots by birth.

Ian was relaxed by now, and quite chatty even, as I wanted him to be. Then I asked him, about the cottage.

"There is something about this cottage isnt there Ian, a secret, that no one it seems, wants to divulge. I think that you know more than you are saying, thats why I came out here, away from your wife. What is it Ian, what is the secret of Ross Cottage."

He looked a little uncomfortable, glancing towards the house before he replied.

"Aye laddie, that there is, but I only know a wee part of it. I am from Dundee, and not here, but I know this much. A young woman it was, hanged herself from the staircase, a long time ago. Her name was Ross, I dont remember her first name. But some say they have seen her around here, on moonless nights. I dont believe it myself. But there you have it laddie, and I never said a word OK?"

Thank you Ian, and no, I heard nothing from you."

I turned away, walking back to the house, wondering now, was it haunted? And was that why I got it so cheaply?

 

[sharingfantasies]

Lordy, Annie thought, this man is an early riser. Someone, she didn’t remember which resident, had a book with pithy sayings. There was one about early rising and worms but she didn’t really recall exactly how it went, but the idea of catching worms made her want to sleep in later. Yawning, Annie changed out of the white shirt and back into her shift, three petticoats and gown, then she went down to see what what going on down there.

Callum was in his office looking at the box. He spent a lot of time looking at the art box she realized. But, it was a fascinating object. All those pictures and little boxes with writing. Once he left for work, she would get some of the books and see if any of them had directions on how to work this box. Not that she wanted to see THOSE pictures but still if he had others like the loch, Annie would love to see them. She hadn’t see anything but just beyond the windows of the cottage for ...well, forever.

Callum read some of the little boxes and then he did something with the letter board on the desk, the same set of buttons Annie had pushed yesterday. Oh my, how fascinating! When he pushed on the letter buttons, the letters showed up where the pictures go. This looked like fun. Imagine being able to write sentences or books or letters or... but what was the point if they stayed on the box like the other squares Callum had put in the box. Maybe it was like a diary. Annie had kept one when she was younger but she wasn’t the world’s best correspondent, she preferred to be out I the sun than laboring with quill and ink over a piece of parchment. But this way of writing looked fun and lot less messy. She would definitely have to explore this picture box.

Reading over Callum’s shoulder she saw he put in Ross Cottage. He must be going to write in his journal about the house and living here. That would be interesting reading, especially if he was going to write about the boxes downstairs that she had redone. I bet he already fixed them, she thought smilingly. Then she remembered she was upset with him and brought the frown back on her face.

A door shutting for a vehicle, had Annie turning a little too quickly and almost grabbed onto Callum’s arm for balance. Luckily he was already getting up to go to the door. Annie figured they would be busy for awhile so she sat down in the chair and touched some of the letters. She laughed with joy when she saw

qwesdfrtfghyjkkukloij

then she tried the long button

as lidhd slighls slighs lseierhg

Then she tried real words

this is fun.i want one.

She heard the sound of someone coming up the stairs so she fled for the attic. As she went past Callum she paused, telling herself that it was the keep from moving the air, but the reality was, she was curious. When he passed her and went into his office, Annie moved to the doorway and peeked in to see what he would do. She hoped she didn’t break the box, but the ability to put words on the box was just too strong for her to fight. With her fingers over her lips, she watched, her eyes gleaming with humor.

 

[Blue Dolphin]

After my chat with Ian, I was even more intrigued, and I really want to know now. What exactly had happened here in the past? I determined to do a little investigating later that day.

For now I was happy to clear the empty boxes out of the shed, ready for collection by the local council, part of their recycling I believed. It was turned 11 when I finished, and my mind returned to my mystery, and Rose Cottage. I decided to walk down to the Shepherd’s Crook again, and see if I could glean any information there. It was a pleasant walk, on a nice morning, and soon I was standing at the bar, the only customer this early, chatting with the barmaid Rhona. After the usual small talk about the weather, and where I was from, I mentioned the cottage, and its history.

But sadly I again drew a blank, She was from the Oban, and knew little, but she did suggest that I contact the library. According to Rhona, they had a local history section, run by one Angus McLeish, who was a veritable mine of information. I thanked her profusely, and quickly finished my glass of beer, before hurrying home.
The McKays were just leaving, I bade them farewell, and hurried inside to the lounge, soon locating the local phone book.

I got through immediately, which made a pleasant change after London, and asked if I could speak to Mr McLeish.

”I am sorry Sir, Angus is in Egypt, looking at the new tomb they found there, and won’t return for another two weeks.”

So, I was foiled again, I thanked the young lady, telling her that I would call in when he returned. The thought crossed my mind that this was getting more like a mystery novel, with every passing hour. But it was a mystery that I would solve, one way or another. Slowly I walked upstairs again, back to the office, intending to continue with my notes about the cottage. When I sat down the scrteen was black, as the screensaver had kicked in, and time expired. I touched the space bar lightly, and prepared to start typing.

And then I froze, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. What I saw on the screen was unbelievable, and I was 110% certainthat it had not been there when I left.

Ross Cottage​

​

qwesdfrtfghyjkkukloij lidhd slighls slighs lseierhg this is fun.i want one.



Apart from the last 6 words, it was gobbledegook, almost like a child, playing on a typewriter. The last sentence though, it shook me. This had been written by what? Obviously someone with intelligence, who could read and write, but whom.

I looked around the room, but it was empty. I even went as far as calling out

”Hello, is anybody there”?

And then I felt foolish, but why I asked myself? . Typing did not appear on a screen, unless fingers, or something like them, pressed the keys.

I tried to think logically, but logic could not account for the typing. Was it a ghost? I wondered, and then chastised myself, ghosts are figments of overactive imaginations, everyone knew that, didn’t they? Finally I decided on a plan I would remove the typing, apart from the 6 legible words, and leave a message there myself. Then the stupidity of it hit me, leaving a message for a ghost, that I did not believe in.

But, what else was there, apart from waiting for the histprian to return.

I started to type, and then left the office, going downstairs to make lunch, and leaving the screen on, with the screensaver disabled. I took one last look, before leaving, shaking my head as I walked away.

Ross Cottage​

​

this is fun.i want one.

Who are you?

~~~~~~
An hour later, after my luch, I returned, not sure what I expected to find. It was still there, exactly as I had left it, proving to me what a stupid idea it had been in the first place. I cleared the screen, except for the heading, and turned off the computer.

"What were you thinking of Calum, this isnt Hollywood you fool." I said to myself.

Retracing my steps back downstairs, I picked up a book, the Da Vinci Code by Dan Browne, i had heard such a lot about it, and wanted to know for myself what all the fuss was about.

Finding a nice shady spot in the garden, I sat down, to lose myself in his words.

 

[sharingfantasies]

Annie spent the day in her chair reading the pamphlets she took from the drawer in the kitchen. She learned how to use something called a microwave oven, which was astounding. It made her leery though as it just seemed wrong somehow for food to cook that fast. Wouldn’t a person get sick from food cooked for only seconds rather than minutes or even hours? Everyone knew that certain foods like meat had to be cooked slowly all day long. Surely cooking in less than a half hour had to be dangerous, didn’t it?

She also read about the washing machine that washed clothes and wrung them out so you didn’t have to do it by hand. And the other machine was a dryer that dried the clothes so that they didn’t have to hang them by hand. Technology was amazing and had come a long way since her day. Tomorrow she wanted to read about the picture box that also let you put letters on it. She wondered if Callum had seen what she put there and what his reaction was. He had put back the black boxes in alphabetical order. She had a new plan for them.

Wondering what he was doing now, Annie went down the stairs but the house was empty. She wandered through the rooms and noticed through the kitchen window that he was out sitting under a tree reading. From the thickness of the book he would be there awhile. With a grin, she headed for the black boxes. This time she was able to move them faster because she put them in order by the first title listed on the back of the boxes and not the one on the spine. It took her an hour, all the time keeping an ear out for Callum as she didn’t want him to come in and see the boxes floating through the air as she moved them. The order wasn’t as perfect as they were the other night when she had spent hours working on them, but still it was mixed up enough to foil his need for order.

Then she went to the kitchen to check on him. But he seemed totally engrossed in the book he was reading. So she decided to go upstairs and see if she could learn more about the picture box. She paid more attention to the buttons when she pushed them and learned which one made the light come on so that she could see the loch. Another touch of the oval thing made the picture disappear. But the letters she left before were gone. With a grin she pushed the letters but this time nothing happened. She pushed some more buttons but nothing seemed to work like it did for him. On a shelf above the box were some books, and she pulled different ones off the shelf until she saw a book with a picture of the picture box on the cover. Aha, she thought, this will tell me what to do. She headed upstairs her nose already in the book, knowing that the box would bring back the picture of the loch after a few minutes.

Annie rocked and read and read and rocked and finally gave up. There was too much to know. It wasn’t like the washing machine book. This one had all sorts of technical details. Maybe it would help to have the box in front of her while she followed the directions? But Annie was pretty sure, that this box was a little bit more difficult than she imagined it would be.

Wanting to clear her mind of all the stuff the book had tried to tell her, she went down the stairs and into Callum’s bedroom. Lying on the bed, she enjoyed the feel of the comforter against her skin. Then she got up and went into the bathroom. That reminded her that she needed to return his shirt. So she went back up to the attic and brought it back down. Not sure what to do with it, since she had worn it, she decided to lay it over the side of the fancy tub. Then she went to the window and looked down, Callum wasn’t in the garden anymore so that meant he was probably in the house. Annie figured she would sit on the steps and see if he noticed the black boxes.

 

[Blue Dolphin]

I am not a speed reader by any means, but I do get through books quickly, missing out words and phrases that are of no consequence to the subject. I was soon well past halfway through Mr Browne`s story, and more than a little disappointed, when it turned into an action hero chase. It seemed more like a Bruce Willis movie to me, and as I had already figured out the ending in the Louvre, I returned back inside the cottage.

Firstly getting a glass of cold milk from the fridge, and then putting the book away. It was too early to eat yet, and I was only having a TV dinner anyway, so I decided to listen to some relaxing music, The Eagles. I moved to the shelves, and looked in the E`s, but it was gone. Again my CD`s were not as I left them, I was perplexed by this, and even a little angry. Looking at the top shelf, I was amazed to see the follwing order of my music.
Aerosmuth, Neil Diamond, Nirvana, INXS, and then the Eagles. Something stupid was going on, and I could not control it, or so it seemed. Maybe a lock, or a big heavy bolt on my door would stop it?

By now I was far too annoyed, and hyped up to listen to music, and put the CD in its proper place, before going up to the bathroom. My hands were all sweaty, and I was thinking pf using the PC, so I washed them. As I turned to get the towel, something caughtr my eye, on the bath. It was my shirt, the one that I had wanted to wear. I wondered had Mrs McKay left it there, and picked it up. I knew straihght away that it had been worn, and not by me. The last time I had seen it, was when I placed it, clean, in my drawer. I threw the shirt into the laundry basket, and stormed our through the bedroom and into my office. I was going to search Google, for ghosts, and hauntings. I did not know what else to do.

i sat down, and looked at the keyboard, the green light was on, indicating that it was powered up. How could that be, I had closed word, and shut the system down, before going out to the garden.

"WHO ARE YOU? WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?"

I shouted, only to be answered by silence.
I thought about calling Uncle Andrew, in Portsmouth, but decided against it. That old sceptic would just laugh at me, and tell me to get real. What was I to do? Thinking about this, and remembering the Da Vinci Code, I wondered.
If there was something here, could it work something out? A puzzle maybe?
If so, that would answer two questions,
one, that someone was messing with my things,
and two, that they were intelligent.

Also, I would password enable the PC, and the word to use chose itself really. But that would come later, first the puzzle.

I opened Word, and the page for the cottage, leaving the following on it.

Ross Cottage.
​

coll and maud​

I left the screen on, going back downstairs. I would watch a movie on my big screen TV, with the surround soundon, to loand then have dinner, before I returned.
I chose Jaws, pure escapism, and very well made. I settled down on the couch, to lose myself in Spielberg`s classic.

 

[sharingfantasies]

Annie was sleeping in the chair, the book about the picture box in her lap. The vocabulary beyond her ken. It as a shout that woke her, one of disgust. At first she laughed thinking he had found the black boxes and in his confusion cried out. But a few moments later, the shout she heard made her shiver.

"WHO ARE YOU? WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?"

Perhaps she had gone too far. He was obviously angry, and Annie had always been a bit timid around an angry man. While her dear Alexander had had his moments of anger and frustration, they were never aimed at her, he had never lifted his hand to her in anger. Yet she had seen her father and other men do so, striking the woman as if their anger was her fault. But all knew that that was a part of living a married life, for a man owned the woman and could so with her as he sit fit. Annie had loved belonging to Alexander, had loved him with all her being, but had he ever struck her, she knew deep in her heart, she would have struck back.

The house went silent, and that made Annie curious. So she headed down the stairs, just in time to see Callum storm down the staircase to the bottom floor. She paused on the stairs looking down over the room and watched as he took a black box and opened it. Then he put the black object into a machine. He picked up a smaller oblong box and did something with it because suddenly the odd looking picture on the wall came alive. Annie’s hand covered her mouth as she watched in astonishment as a picture appeared. The picture had movement and people taking. She continued to watch as children played in the water. It was fascinating.

A memory came back to Annie of the old couple talking about talking pictures that they would sometimes go down to the village to see. Annie had never truly understood what they meant, but now she did. Imagine being able to watch people doing things like this whenever you wanted. She continued to watch for awhile, wondering if any of the children in the pictures were his or his relatives. The sound was loud and after awhile, Annie tired of watching the children floating on the boats.

She got up and wandered into the office thinking she might see if anything she read in the book made sense to her. She pushed a button and the picture of the loch came on. She touched the oval thing and remembered it was called a mouse. She picked it up and looked it over, totally confused as to why it was called a mouse. Well, the cord thing made it look like a mouse tail so maybe that was it. When she touched the mouse the loch disappeared like before. Only this time there was the white box with letters on it again.

Ross Cottage.
coll and maud​

What did that mean? She sat and stared at it for a long time. Coll meant nothing to her. But Maud rang a bell. Was it someone she had known? She went through her memory, through the houses of the village, but no Maud came to mind. Then she went through the different families that had lived in the cottage. Still no Maud. She remembered a Maud that was a character in a book. She got up and began to pace back and forth.. Maud.. Maud.. Maud...lost love, misery, death.. What was it? And then it came to her. A poem in a book she had read. She didn’t remember much about it, the book had belonged to the family before the old couple.

Then she clapped her hands and laughed..the lines of the poem suddenly coming back to her. It had been a really long poem, more of a story, about the love of a local youth for the daughter of the manor. But there was a part of the poem that had stood out to Annie because it was something with which she could relate.


A shadow flits before me,
Not thou, but like to thee:
Ah Christ, that it were possible
For one short hour to see
The souls we loved, that they might tell us
What and where they be.


It was by a man named.. oh what was the name? Tenny.. Tenso... something like that. Annie shrugged, she knew it would come to her at some odd time, like the middle of the night or while she was sleeping. With a sigh, thinking of her Alexander, and wishing she could see him, if only for an hour, she pushed the buttons and wrote the words that had made her cry when she first read them.

She got up and left the room, feeling melancholy. In the bedroom she laid down on the bed and stretched out, pulling the pillow into her arms and falling asleep on top of the comforter that she enjoyed so much against her skin.

 

[Blue Dolphin]

I awoke to a cloudy morning, yet still it was warm.

After showering I dressed in my shorts, and loose open neck shirt, before going to make breakfast. As I ate my cornflakes and ice cold milk, I tried not to think about the cottage. Instead concentrating on my novel. I intended to start it today, mapping out the chapters, and creating character bios, as well as secondary character descriptions.

It did not work, I kept wondering, what would I find on the computer screen. Had whatever it was that was interfering with my life worked it out I wondered?
Realised that "coll and maud" was an anagram of my name Calum Donald? Or maybe I was just getting forgetful, and these things were not really happening to me?
I washed my dishes, and cleared them away, before climbing the stairs, with more than a little trepidation I might add.

Sitting in my chair, I stared at the screen in amazement, I could see six lines of what looked like poetry, it was vaguely familiar anyway. And I knew, the computer is an inanimate object, and can only place on the screen what it is told to. So where had this come from. Was someone entering the house, while I was asleep, and playing tricks on me. Or was it the "something" that Ian had mentioned.

I read the lines slowly, out loud.

A shadow flits before me,
Not thou, but like to thee:
Ah Christ, that it were possible
For one short hour to see
The souls we loved, that they might tell us
What and where they be.

And then in silence, whoever, or whatever had done this, had ignored my anagram, but why?
A lack of understanding?
Or a silly game to confuse me?

I decided to use a plan, I would put something on the screen, and then use my laptop, in the lounge, to work on the novel. Only returning to look at the screen at 5PM in the afternoon.
But, what to write?
Poetry had never been a forte of mine, indeed, when I was 8 I had to learn Wordsworth`s Daffodils off by heart, and it took me forever to learn.

That was it!
I would leave my house guest Wordworths poem, and then wait and see.

I deleted the words on the screen, and replaced them,

I wandered lonely as a Cloud
That floats on high o'er Vales and Hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:-
A poet could not but be gay
In such a jocund company:
I gazed-and gazed-but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude,
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the Daffodils.​

​

After checking the spelling, I picked up the laptop, and returned downsdtairs, to work, but in reality, to wait.

 

[sharingfantasies]

When Annie awoke it was getting dark and she could hear that it was quiet downstairs. She slid off the bed and stretched, not used to lying down as she slept. Then with a sigh as she passed the bathroom, thinking it was time for a bath again, she headed up to the attic, and watched people walking by the house in the warm evening.

Later she heard Callum come up the stairs and knew that he was going to bed. With nothing better to do, she went downstairs and explored the kitchen. She was in human form as she opened doors and closed them, not really thinking of anything but just checking things out. Deciding to play a fun little trick, she went through the kitchen opening every door and drawer, but once she was finished she was still bored. He hadn’t left a light on, or she could sit and read a book, there just wasn’t much to do tonight, so she went back to the black boxes and rearranged them again, this time putting them back into the order he kept them.

She wandered upstairs, into his office but that didn’t appeal either, so she went back up to the attic and watched the moon travel across the sky until she fell asleep.

When she awoke it was barely dawn and she wandered down to the office, wondering what Callum had thought of her poetry. She was surprised to see he had left a poem of his own. Daffodils were her favorite flower. She wondered if he had chosen the poem at random or had a special feeling for them as she did. She wondered if he was going to put some in the garden as he redid it. She had planted daffodils there herself, but of course after the old couple died, the garden had also. It would take a lot of work to dig up all the weeds that had taken over and then replant seeds and bulbs to make it a place of beauty. All that really remained of her garden were the walkways that she and Alexander had created with stone from the area and the saplings that he had planted, which were now full grown.

Poetry he wants, she though, hmm. And then she wrote something she had learned as a young lass at her mother’s knee.

O see ye not yon narrow road,
So thick beset wi' thorns and briers?
That is the Path of Righteousness,
Though after it but few inquires.

And see ye not yon braid, braid road
That lies across the lily leven?
That is the Path of Wickedness,
Though some call it the Road to Heaven​

It was something that her mother had learned from her mother and so on, one of the many tales bards told as they moved about Scotland. Everytime Annie had considered doing something the easy way, her mother had recited those lines.

With a grin, Annie went over to the shelves and looked at the books Callum had organized. She loved books too much to mess with this organization. Finding a book of Shakespeare’s sonnets, she took it with her up to the attic, where she spent the day rocking and reading.

 

[Blue Dolphin]

It was after 7PM when I finally checked the moniter screen in the office. I knew for certain that I had been alone in the house all day. SO if anything were to be there, well, it oculd not have been placed there by a real person.
I was not sure what I wanted to see, but I was surprised that it was exactly as I had left it. And I decided I would stil leave the poem there, until the morning.

I went downstairs, made dinner, and watched TV for a an hour or so, finally going to bed just after 11.

I was up at 7, a day for the McKays to come again.
After breakfast I checked the office again,and this time I WAS surprised, another poem, completely unknoen to me.

O see ye not yon narrow road,
So thick beset wi' thorns and briers?
That is the Path of Righteousness,
Though after it but few inquires.

And see ye not yon braid, braid road
That lies across the lily leven?
That is the Path of Wickedness,
Though some call it the Road to Heaven​

I read it throught wice, thinking to myself that this was old, very old. I still was not sure about responding, I wanted to say "Who are you?" but my logic told me there could be no one. Ghosts did not exist, nor poltergeists, or spirits, or wnatever. The trouble was, it was happening, and my computer certainly did not have a brain, or some kind of artificial intelligense, but did it?

What was happening was neyond reasonm.

A short four line verse entered my mind. I was not sure if it had been attributed to Oscar Wilde or not.
The one thing I did know, was that it was very good representation of my current thoughts.

Clearing the screen, I typed the four lines, and then went to bed, wondering if they would have any effect at all?

As I was walking down the stair,
I saw a man, who wasn`t there.
He wasn`t there again today,
I wish that man would go away.​

 

[sharingfantasies]

When Annie went down to check the box, she was surprised to feel that her feelings were hurt. She had been enjoying the exchange. It was as close to carrying on a conversation than she had had since she died. But he didn’t want her around, he wasn’t having fun as she was. Still Annie had always been stubborn, so she thought she would try these words from a song that a young couple used to play on a radio. Annie knew about radios, not how they worked really, but that you could turn them on and hear music and talking. This song always seemed so melancholy, the voice of the person singing full of pain and sorrow. It made Annie sad for the person. And now she felt sad for her. So she wrote

Words are few
I have spoken
I could waste a thousand years
Wrapped in sorrow words are token
Come inside and catch my tears

Do you really want me to go?​

Then she went upstairs to the chair and sat at the window, listening to the birds and wishing she was free to fly away from here.

 

[Blue Dolphin]

I slept fitfully for some reason, and was awake at 5.30. I used the bathroom, and then could not resist the temptation to look in the office at the moniter. The four lines of verse seemed familiar, but I soon forgot them, when I saw THE massage.

Words are few
I have spoken
I could waste a thousand years
Wrapped in sorrow words are token
Come inside and catch my tears

Do you really want me to go?​

Did I really want this person, if that was what it was to go? I knew immediately that the answer was no, for that would mean that I would spend the rest of my life wondering, what if? I needed to do some research if I could, use the net to try and find information, on ghosts and hauntings, as ridiculous as it sounded, I had to do it.

Closing word, I went online to Google, after quickly popping down to the kitchen to make some tea. Two hours I was it, till almost 8am. My conclusions were that ghosts fell into one of two categories. Vindictive, and, crazy though it sounded, lonely.

The vindictive beings usually having been murdered, in or around the property that they now inhabited. If that was the word for it. The lonely ones had died in the propertry, and seemed to be seeking some sort of solace, or someone. I had also discovered that there psychics, making a good living from investigationg such things, but I had no doubt that most were charlatans anyway. So, what was I to do now? Would it be stupid of me, to leave a message, for this "thing"?

I realised that whatever it was, it had high intelligence. Thinking back to the first typing I saw, just a mish mash of letters. Then something about, I like this, it is fun. The anagram had confused it obviously, but the poetry, that wes real, very real. I leaned back, sighing, and speaking out loud.

"How in God`s name do you ask a ghost a question, and expect to get an answer? It is ridiculous, nuts even."

Nevertheless, if I wanted to know who, or what it was, my choices were simple. Ask, and maybe find out, do nothing, and wonder for ever about what it was. No contest really. I disconnected from the net, and returned to word, clearing the screen completely.

I am Calum Donald, born in Edinburgh in 1972.
I am therefore a true Scot, and this is my home.
Who are you, or shuld that be, what are you?​

I then showered, dressed, and left the cottage, I needed space, and air, so I went to explore the island a little. Deciding not to return until evening.