“You are not welcome here. This is my Tuesday. This is my silence. Leave the way you came.”
Because the.uninvited?
For me, it was the rocking chair.
It doesn’t seep in through a cracked window or a drafty attic. This cold crawls up the back of your neck while you’re standing in a room that should be warm. It’s the cold that arrives with someone—except no one has opened the door.
But you do not owe hospitality to a haunting.
It hates an audience. Have you ever felt an unwelcome presence—physical, emotional, or spectral—in your own home? Tell me about it in the comments. Let’s leave the lights on together. Stay curious. Stay skeptical. And lock your spare room.
We talk a lot about guests in this life. The planned ones. The ones with wine bottles and wet umbrellas. We tidy the living room, hide the laundry, and light a candle that smells like sandalwood and lies.