|Our room is on the upper floor, second window in from the left.|
Our room on the upper floor of the house was dressed in period furniture, which I loved. We felt as though we had journeyed back in time. In the evening we ventured out for dinner and on our return very gladly settled into the soft down bed in our room. It had been a very long day with a lot of driving; I was really tired, and so quickly fell off to sleep.
It was a singularly windy night in Waterford, and as I settled in to sleep I could hear the branches of the trees moving in their dance with the wind. I was awakened around 1 a.m. by the sound of something brushing against the panes of glass in our window. I got out of bed and opened the window to brush aside strands of ivy. Although a soft rain was now steadily falling, there were breaks in the clouds, and I was delighted by the sight of billions of stars in the night sky.
|The ivy enveloped window|
A glowing white light was emanating from the dresser across from the foot of our bed. It would get very bright, almost filling the pitch black room with soft light and then fade, brighten again, and then fade. It was as though the glow was pulsing like the rhythm of breathing. I could hear my own breath quicken in fear, but I could not move. My eyes were filling with tears because I was so frightened. I felt my hand move toward my husband and the next thing I knew I was shaking him awake. "Matt, Matt", I cried out, "what is that? what is that?". My poor husband bolted up in the bed, having been stirred from a deep sleep. He looked toward the end of the bed and started laughing. I didn't think it was very funny, and was annoyed by his behaviour. He jumped up out of the bed, switched on the light, and pointed to my laptop. I had left it on the dresser, and the glowing light? The indicator from my MacBook Pro in sleep mode, a high tech ghost.
The next night this city girl and her understanding husband happily fell asleep in a noisy hotel.