Vincent is swearing because the faucets he had ordered (and paid) did not arrive on the expected day, which is anyways too late for him, and so the bathroom remodeling does not go forwards as planned, planned meaning being done with it by now, and Vincent is chasing Starfish around, both covered in dust without getting much achieved, the essential parts being missing.

But such is life and this too shall pass, we others watch in amusement or not at all, those who are busy with themselves or work or love stuff or money worries. Apparently a new tenant is going to arrive, who is supposedly male and a photographer of some sort. (That should be interesting on my part, and a tiny insecurity is coming up, although in general I am pretty happy with my work and achievements, some kind of LEICA superstar with an attitude could very well be annoying, but we’ll see.)

Meanwhile I had an odd experience, snooping around the unfinished bathroom trying to document the unfinishedness of the place; there was nobody there at the time, nor was their any new shot I thought I could take, because I had taken pictures already a few days ago, so I was just about to leave when I saw something. I am not sure what to think really, but I think I saw a ghost.

People had mentioned various ghosts in the hotel to me, most of them somehow connected to the past of the hotel when Cooks Lane was for streetwalkers and their clients and the hotel a mid-level brothel at least some of the time back in the days. I had already heard of this one, which is, so I have been told, the ghost of one of the girls who worked in the rooms here in brothel times, a very tall and beautiful lady.
Apparently she was born in a wealthy family abroad, but escaped some sort of suffocating circumstances back home coming to this country, probably soon falling into the hands of some good-for-nothing type guy and ended up helpless and penniless where either he worked her as a prostitute, or that was her only way to survive.
The story goes she never gave up hope to improve her case and leave one day; eventually she fell in love with a client who may or may not have been serious with her, anyways apparently the two made plans to start a respectable life together, but then this guy ceased showing up, probably because he either had found someone better or was shot in the streets (back then that was relatively common around here), and the poor girl finally succumbed to a deep depression and sliced her wrists in the bathtub with a razor blade.

It must have been her, as I saw the apparition of a tall female in an old-fashioned bathing suit. Whilst all my hairs stood on end she didn’t seem to notice me at all at first, then stared at me and finally turned around and hovered away, at the point I reacted and chased after her, trying to get a better look (and shot), but she disappeared into thin air. All I got are three shots, the third one was pretty close and it looks like she had some cuts or scars on her wrists.

Josiane Keller “a ghost in the bathroom” (2016)

Josiane Keller “a ghost in the bathroom 2” (2016)

Josiane Keller “a ghost in the bathroom – wrist scars” (2016)

I am not sure what to think at all, it is spooky, but poor girl anyways! I just hope once the bathroom up here is ready she won’t be one of the regulars, that would be a bit too creepy for me.