Ghosts of St. Augustine


Hello readers. I have recently began a book of historic fiction about the history and ghosts of America’s oldest city, St. Augustine in Florida. I have decided to give you a taste by including one of many stories in the book. I do hope you enjoy and use the stars to rate my story. I also welcome and appreciate your comments.

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Sometime in the 1800s an American moved to St. Augustine and set up shop downtown near Castillo de San Marcos. Mysteriously, his name has been lost in history. He knew hardly anyone, and trying desperately to make his business a success he would work many long lonely hours. Late one night he decided to take a stroll. When he arrived at a sea wall on the eastern edge of the fort, a thick fog rolled in.

At first he was alarmed and decided to stop and take note of his surroundings. The fog rolled in thick and made it hard for him to see. He began to hear the faint sound of singing. A melancholy voice came closer until finally an olive skin beauty appeared before him. Enchanted by her looks and her forlorn countenance, he inquired as to what was the matter.

She stopped her singing and stared into his eyes as if he was the one to suddenly appear before her. With a thick Spanish accent, she informed him she had been lost for quit some time and was trying to find her way home.

The tired, but enchanted shop keeper insisted that he would help her find her way, but alas she simply gave him a sad smile and turned away from him. As soon as she disappeared into the mist the fog lifted as quickly as it had rolled in.

From then on, night after night, the shopkeeper walked the same route in hopes of catching a glimpse of her once more. As time passed he became disheartened, and over time, his after closing walks became less frequent.

Exactly one year after that eventful walk, he decided to try again. This time that now familiar fog rolled in again. He heard her voice. That same faint singing he had heard on this night one year ago. He followed her voice until he came upon her. This time she looked happy.

They talked with one another for a long time. Finally she told him she had to go.

“I’m so very lonely here. Can I please come with you?” he asked.

“I have found a way home at last” she replied. “If you are serious, meet me here tomorrow night.” He agreed to meet her. As she moved away the fog again suddenly lifted.

The shopkeeper did not find sleep that night. The next day at the shop seemed to go on forever. His last customer bought a postcard with a picture of the Spanish Fort. When night fell, he closed up his shop. As he stepped outside to lock the door, he noticed this night was different. A thick fog had rolled in right to his shop door. It seemed to envelope all of St. Augustine.

That last customer of the day was the last person to ever see that shopkeeper. When the police found the patron through a credit card record, the customer informed them the night was as clear as a bell when he left the shop.

To this day when the fog moves in dense around the Spanish Fort, and it often does, it is said, if you listen, you can hear faint singing near the Castillo de San Marcos.

 

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