I was sitting on the bed laughing and staring into my girlfriends’ beautiful brown eyes when I felt the icy hand of a ghost on my shoulder.
It was early evening, around seven, and we‘d just made love. We were enjoying the relaxed high of post-sex intimacy and the after effects of some vodka. But it wasn’t the alcohol that made me shiver and feel the presence of an unworldly spirit. Yael had felt it, too. A kind of light tap on the shoulder and the scratchy fingertips of an icy hand.
I don’t believe in ghosts. So, what could it have been? Some kind of energy perhaps, or a draught from the cracks around the window frame? It was an old attic flat that was in bad repair. It’s possible that some gusts of wind had come through gaps. But it didn’t feel like that. It had felt like a tap, tap, tap on the shoulder. So strong and noticeable that we both turned around together. The smiles drained from our faces and we stared at each other in silence.
We got dressed quickly, all the time looking around the room and behind us. Yael turned off the music and we listened. Not a sound. I checked the doors and looked around outside on the roof. Down below all seemed normal. People were going about their business and the sound of car horns drifted up from the road. The sun was setting and there was a chill in the air. Despite this, the temperature in the room was noticeably lower than it was out on the roof.
We sat on the bed and tried to make some sense of what we had both experienced. There was no explanation. We left the flat and tried to wipe our minds clean with more vodka in the bar on the corner.
The next day the sun rose strong and warm. It melted away the thoughts of the icy hand and we never spoke of it again. We moved out of the flat 6 weeks later and did not look over our shoulder as we closed the door and walked down the stairs.

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