Standing Room Only

A World of Short Stories


I had grown up camping with my family during most holiday weekends.  Now that I am older and recently divorced, I have perfected the art of camping alone.  I have met a few people throughout my camping adventures and travels and we try to meet up to a certain degree.  The only part I am not fond of this group camping are the ghost stories Phil likes to tell on a regular basis.  It has gotten to the point that when I know Phil is camping with the group, I really have to consider whether or not I want to go. 

Last time he told a story that turned out to be partially true.  He is a podcast junkie and exclusively listens to true crime and spun a very recent murder into his ghost story.  When I read about the murder in the newspaper two weeks later, I wondered how Phil knew so much about the murder before the story ran in the paper.  I assumed he had found the information in a different paper and tried to forget about it.  The next time Phil came camping with the group, I  camped as far away as I could and had as many people between us as possible.  He still gave me the creeps about the murder story, the information he knew and I didn’t want to pass on the gut feeling I had about him.  My fears were confirmed when a scream woke me up at 3 AM. 

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