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.
