Countdown to the Publication of the Starlight Letters

Countdown to the Publication of the Starlight Letters

Saturday, October 2, 2010

Whispers of Machinery

Aside from ghost cars, I have also been in pursuit of haunted machines of all types. Could there be a ghost motorcycle rider screaming down a dark lonely road? How about a ghost plane terrorizing the skies above? We've all heard stories of ghost ships on the ocean. This shall be yet another chapter in my life's work: The Starlight Letters.

James Starlight, PhD.

Saturday, August 21, 2010

Ghost Cars

About thirty years ago I was visiting relatives near Lake Topaz Nevada. My uncle told me a rural road (funny he called it "rural". All roads in lake Topaz are rural -- at least they were then.) where not but but many ghost cars roar up and down the road after midnight.

I, of course, was compelled to investigate this myself.

I positioned myself at the location my uncle said would be the best behind a large berm. I waited and waited, watching cars pass wondering if they were driven by the dead. Finally, about 2:00 am, a sudden chill swept over me. Though it was late summer, the air felt like winter. There was a thundering roar of a car engine and the ground vibrated. I stared in the direction of the sound, waiting for headlights. But there were no headlights, only a dark 50's car with tail fins illuminated by the half moon. It roared past me at a very high rate of speed, a swirling twist of fire hot air mixed with the paranormally cold around my body. Then it was gone. That night I believe I saw one more ghost car, an old pick-up truck. It too, traveled the road without benefit of headlights.

I wish I could remember exactly what road it was. I do know another road near ther led to the Walker River, but that's all I remember.

I shall return to this place and report back.

Jame Starlight, PhD.

Monday, February 15, 2010

Kiss of Death

I have been to brink and have returned. My health has been unstable as of late and I must take what moments of lucidity I have to record my thoughts. And I have many thoughts. Being so close to death's door, I could smell the pungent odor of decaying flesh drifting on the soft scent of stale, rotted clothing and wood. I could hear voices, voices from my past, calling out to me, wanting me to go with them. But I fought the urge to follow the voices and returned to my hospital bed -- life! The ghosts beyond death's door nearly tricked me, but I fooled them. I have more than one trick up my sleeve.

And I learned something about them I had not known before. There are smells they dislike and smells that can attract them. The ghosts entered my room without pause if I had fresh fruit, but whenever my bathroom was cleaned, the fresh, bright anticeptic smell of the cleaner they used kept them away.

These notes have been recorded in The Starlight Letters.

J.S.