I unlocked the door and stepped into my new apartment. I had worked hard all day. I was tired. All I wanted to do was settle in before a cozy fire, read the evening newspaper, then crawl into bed.I stoked the fire in the fireplace and eased into my favorite chair. In the newspaper I saw a story about the Cardiff Giant:STONE MAN HAS PLASTER TWINCrowds of people have been lining up to see New York City's own "petrified man" at the Eighteenth Street Exhibit Hall. They believe they are paying to see the stone giant that was discovered on a farm in Cardiff, New York. They don't know that the giant on display at the Exhibit Hall is merely a plaster cast of the Cardiff Giant.Earlier this year, a Cardiff farmer was digging on his farm when he found the stone figure of a man. The stone man was over ten feet tall. Many people believe that an ancient tribe of giants lived in New York thousands of years ago. They believe the farmer in Cardiff discovered the fossilized remains of one of these giant men.Scientists are now studying the Cardiff Giant. Many experts doubt that the figure is a petrified giant. They believe it is a statue carved from stone.I laughed. "Some people will believe just about anything. In Cardiff, they were paying to see a stone man that is probably a fake. In New York City, they are flocking to see a plaster imitation of the fake."At least now, though, I knew why the street outside had been so crowded. I lived across from the Eighteenth Street Exhibit Hall.I climbed into bed. I was glad I had a scientific mind. I demanded proof when I heard far-fetched stories.I closed my eyes and was drifting off to sleep when I heard footsteps in the hallway. These were not just any footsteps. They sounded like boulders being dropped on the floor. With each step, the whole building shook. After each step, I heard a clank, like somebody was dragging a chain.THUMP. Clank. THUMP. Clank.I pulled my blanket over my head. I pressed it against my ears. It muffled the thumping and clanking, but I could still feel the building shake.The shaking seemed to come closer. My blanket slipped off my shoulders. I tugged on it. Something -- or someone -- tugged harder.I pulled the blanket from my face. A huge man loomed over me.
I screamed. The man screamed. I stared up at the man. His head was the size of my duffel bag; his chest was as big as a barrel. His arms hung down at his sides like tree trunks. I could see right through him. Through his head I could see the ceiling. Through his enormous belly I could see the fire still crackling in the fireplace."You're ... you're a ghost," I whispered."I'm a spirit, it's true," his voice boomed. "A spirit who cannot rest."His massive shoulders sagged. He looked so sad and lost, I forgot to be afraid of him.I scrambled from my bed. The poor giant shivered."You must be cold," I said. "Come sit by the fire."
The Haunted House
Halloween - definitions