ghost story

in my old apartment i woke up one night to the sound of a low hum, an electronic sound and i had no idea what it was. i got up to investigate and found that the dustbuster, an appliance i inherited from the previous tenant, was on. i had never used it. but it was on. it wasn't moving, it was propped up against the wall and operating. i turned it off. i had no idea what made it turn on or if it had been on all along, slowly receiving an electrical charge until it was finally operational. in conversation with someone (my brother? my therapist?) it was suggested that maybe i had a ghost. if so, it was the only sign i was aware of in the apartment. sometimes the walls creaked, the mirror seemed to settle, but nothing much else.

now, in a new apartment, i sit at a dining room table. i was earlier this evening reading an article and listening to some music. nina simone, finest hour, to be exact. and at the end of one song i began to hear a ringing sound. i haven't listened to that record in some time and thought maybe the ringing was part of the song, a part i had forgotten. but then the song ended. and the ringing continued.

so, i got up to investigate. and it grew louder the closer i got to the stereo. and then beyond the stereo, in my little office which has yet to be unpacked, there is on a book shelf an alarm clock i don't use. it's wound, it tells time, but i never activate the alarm. that alarm was going off—it was turned on. i haven't touched that clock since i unpacked it about 3 months ago now.

what's the explanation? do i have a ghost here? was it moved to react to the sobering and poignant voice of ms nina? how freaked out should i be? i don't feel very, but that combined with the lingering stank of ben gay in the hall and other sundry weirdnesses are conspiring and i'm getting, quite potentially, jittered.