Ghost Tales

I meet all types in my line of research take the experience the other month. For you never know, even you might prosper from what I am going to tell you.

Let me tell you about a little occult shop I pop into from time to time. Its hidden position down an old forgotten cobbled street still manages however to proudly announce itself with garish purple and black signage. You cannot really miss it yet it frequently is mistaken for a certain type of adult shop. The sign unmistakably states The Paranormal Paraphernalia Emporium. A long wide sign spanning across a double fronted property with entrance between the two large glass windows pasted with an odd assortment of notices providing magical services for anything you care to need help with in life.

It's the sort of place you either walk quickly pass with a sideway glance or stand and gawp at the array of wands, tarot cards, crystal balls well in fact the whole esoteric tool kit to master being white or black practitioner in the magical arts. This no Harry Potter shop amidst the romantic shambles of old worldly Dickensian buildings, far from it as you can imagine.

The shop owner is an old friend of mine who in characteristic enigmatic ways describes himself as a high-grade wizard or more commonly a small round fat man with thick glasses and comb over! You cannot miss me he'll say to those seeking out his contact.

Willoughby, just the man, he says with an excitement that has me curious. The Magus is here, in the back room. Have you time to show your face?

Oh yes I said, I had been eager to meet this man, practises Voodoo apparently.

Gus leads the way through to the back with his shopkeeper's eyes flashing a look to make sure he had no customers.

Well you would be forgiven for thinking of an old analogy looking at the two of them. Talk about mop and bucket. The Magus must have been easily close to seven foot tall. He was wearing long robes and spoke with a deep voice that resonated deep and its hypnotic quality had me standing open-mouthed. He introduced himself as "The Magus."

What an imposing figure in such a tiny back room. Once the introductions made, the Magus surprised me a little.

Stand closer Mr Willoughby, so I did. Take from your pocket that shinny one pence piece.

My Gawd! How did he know that, am I being mugged for a penny?

Now Mr Willoughby a little demonstration I think you will like.

Oh yes, I thought.

I want you to do something. Take this penny piece and at home, I want you to go into the place you sleep and put the penny piece on the floor and on doing so I want you to say, penny on the floor money through the door.

Did I look as if in need of some money?

Oh, I said and will this work?

Oh sure Mr Willoughby sure it will work. Once you receive some unexpected money arriving in the post or whatever pick up the penny and put it back down on another part of the floor in the room where you sleep. You must say the same words penny on the floor money through the door.

He smiled, such a wide grin. I felt obliged to carry out the spell with such a look. After all, in the next breath he had told me he needed to use up a ritual spell and had not quite expelled the earth element from it so it was a freebie for me.

I fear he had slaughtered a local farmer's chicken unknown to the chicken farmer and I did feel bound by duty to carry out the procedure.

Well would you have believed it, two weeks in I received a letter from my car insurance company, refunding part of my policy fee; apparently through their mistake of duplicating cover on the policy. I had no idea of the issue. As it was a while ago, interest had accrued on the figure so a nice little pick-up.

Therefore, as the Magus said I moved the penny to another spot. Well you never know.

Now I do not know how such a thing happened, but as a favour I said I would look after a lion's paw he carried around, he told me not to wish upon it, why tell me that, wouldn't you be a bit more curious to do so.

We had no time to talk much, however, he said in a way, which from a seven foot figure seemed to take the edge off wanting to meet him. We will meet up again Mr Willoughby, and you can ask me about the Voodoo you are dying to find out about.

His deep laugh made me wonder did I really want to know.

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And finally –
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