When I first met my husband he lived in a rambling house in one of the northern suberbs of harare. the house must have been built around 1950 and was surrounded by similar buildings on the road.
He recounted to me the story concerning his experiences in his room. His room was a small bedroom half way down a corridor with other doors leading to other similar rooms. The doors were all made of wood and opened inwards.
The furnishings in this particular room were what one would expect in a small bedroom - a bed, bedside table with a lamp, a wardrobe, dresser and a bookcase. nothing unusual.
My husband recounts that he would often be woken in the middle of the night by strange scrapings on the door - coming from the hall. These would change in to knocks and would move from top to bottom of the door and increase in volume.
On opening the door nothing could be seen and all went silent.
After some months of enduring the noise my husband went out and bought a crusifix which he hung in the room. The strange knocks and scarpings stopped.
He recounted to me the story concerning his experiences in his room. His room was a small bedroom half way down a corridor with other doors leading to other similar rooms. The doors were all made of wood and opened inwards.
The furnishings in this particular room were what one would expect in a small bedroom - a bed, bedside table with a lamp, a wardrobe, dresser and a bookcase. nothing unusual.
My husband recounts that he would often be woken in the middle of the night by strange scrapings on the door - coming from the hall. These would change in to knocks and would move from top to bottom of the door and increase in volume.
On opening the door nothing could be seen and all went silent.
After some months of enduring the noise my husband went out and bought a crusifix which he hung in the room. The strange knocks and scarpings stopped.
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