I’ve heard ghost stories about death before, but, until the spring of 2008, I didn’t realise that in reality they were usually love stories. No one in my family realized that until, one March morning, my father unexpectedly died in his sleep. My beloved elder sister Katharine happened to be awake in her bedroom one hundred miles east, that night. All of a sudden, she sensed a presence with her, and felt hands gently cupping the back of her head. Tender, loving hands; an inexplicable swirl of energy. It was an utterly uncanny sensation that she’d never had...
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