This was a 5 sentence ghost story that I was told as a girl at camp one summer. Today it is raining heavily, storming actually. Lightning is flashing and thunder is rattling the windows of my tiny abode. I am lonely and it seems the perfect time to pull up the chair and re-tell, in my own way - lengthened, embellished, with added dialogue, that ghost story that I remember from back then. Not way back when mind you, but from more than a few summers ago.

If you are an affecianado, I hope you will enjoy.

There was a young man, fresh out of university who was taking a few months off to explore a bit of the world before his life became the monotony of work and expectations. He was bicycling through Great Britain. The young man had left Alnwick after a good breakfast, pedaling northward, wanting to go to Edinburgh. As the afternoon wore on, ominous clouds built and a strong wind gusted about the frame of the bicycle. He had gone a fair distance, close to 30 miles and was approaching a small village called Cornhill-on-Tweed. With the storm approaching and night falling sooner than expected, the young man biked into the small town just as the storm broke. Chaining his bike outside, he pushed open the old door of a pub over which a sign swung in the increasing wind. "Rooms." Sitting down at the last available table, a woman approached him to take his order.

"It's a gonna be a blow out there soon," she said to the young man.

"It's already started, ma'am," he responded politely.

Peeking through the curtains, the woman did indeed see that the storm's fury was at last upon them. Shaking her head she told the young man that it was a good thing he had gotten indoors as the rain was coming down in torrents. She took his order for hot food and drink and when he expressed interest in a room for the night, she said they were full up but she was sure that under the conditions outside they would find a place for him. She went to get her husband who owned the little place. Fetching his drink first, she hurried off to get his food.

When his food was ready, it was the husband who brought it along with a wooden board carrying a small loaf of hot bread. It was a welcome sight for the young man and he quietly thanked his good fortune in finding the pub. The older man sat down to speak to him.

"My wife says you be needing a room for the night, and she told you we were full up. But we don't turn people out into a storm or the cold so you can be staying. We'll put you up in the back room on a cot and you won't be having to pay for the lodging. It won't be as comfortable as a bed but you'll be warm and safe and dry and that's as much as any man can expect to have."

One of the locals sitting at the next table laughed and tapped the pub owner on the shoulder. "You should be giving him the room at the end of the hall. That one's always vacant." And his table mates laughed heartily.

"Old fool. Shut your mouth or I'll be putting you in the room." And the 'fool' at the other table did indeed quiet down.

"What room at the end of the hall? You have a room?" If it was true, the young man was curious why it hadn't been offered to him.

"Yeah, but I don't let anyone rent it out. I won't put anyone in that room. It's haunted."

The young man looked at the pub owner's face to see if he were jesting but there was a dark seriousness in his eyes that told the young man he was indeed very serious.

"I'll take the room, sir. I'm not afraid. I don't believe in ghosts and I would pay you for it. I have been biking all day and a bed sounds wonderful to me."

The pub owner pursed his lips and said again, "The room is haunted and I won't be responsible."

"Is it available?" the young man persisted.

"No living person occupies it, if that's what you're asking."

"Then I will rent it," and laying out money for both the food he had consumed and the room in advance, the pub owner sighed and shrugged. He knew the young man would learn just as everyone else had. Taking the money he got up from the table and walked away. Waiting for him to return with the key the young man watched incredulously as he simply went back to work.

Approaching the bar the young man asked politely, "Sir, I've paid you in advance for the room. May I have the key now so I can go on up and get some sleep?"

The pub owner looked up at the young man with a resigned expression and stated, "It isn't ever locked. You can lock if from inside but as I never rent it, the key is long since lost."

The young man smiled at this foolishness and said, "Well, Sir, and what if I wanted to stay a day or two and wished to lock my belongings inside the room for safety? What would you do about it?"

The old pub owner lifted his head from his work and looked the young man directly in the eye. "Son, you're testing my good nature. I can promise you that no one goes into the room for long. The locals know better and anyone else has a key to their own room. Now I know you don't believe me and there's nothing I can do about that, but no one here will steal from you. That is, if you so manage to want to stay over."

The young man continued to smile when he said, "Thank you and I bid you good night. I will make sure I don't lock the door behind me when come for breakfast in the morning."

The owner continued to look at the boy with the eyes of the wise and said, "Wouldn't matter if you did. It doesn't stay locked on it's own."

As if competing with the owner of the place for some sort of dominance, the young man's smile broke into a grin when he asked in an arrogant tone, "How late do you serve breakfast?"

"Whenever you want it." With that the owner dismissed the young man by turning his back on him to work.

The young man headed for the stairs and looked left down the darkened hallway. There was a window at the end of the hallway and the flashing of lightning through it showed that it was actually the window inside the bedroom at the end of the hallway. The door was already open and the room was waiting for him.

Upon entering the room the young man flipped on the lights and looked about before closing the door. It was a small but pleasant room with a thick mattress on a canopied bed that monopolized the floor. The window behind it was dark and then light and then dark again as the storm ragged outside, rain beating its angry fists against the glass as if demanding to be let in, or for him to get out. This last bit, the young man figured, was his imagination working overtime. The pub owner's story of a haunted room was getting the better of him now that he was up here alone. Shaking off these silly thoughts the young man closed the door to the room and locked it. To be safe though, he checked under the bed, in the small wardrobe, and made sure the window was soundly locked. Stripping down to a t-shirt and boxers, the young man got into the warm, soft bed and pulled the blankets up under his chin. Looking around the little room he listened to the quiet. He couldn't even hear the people in the pub just down the hall and downstairs. He should sleep very comfortably up here, he thought, and he turned out the light on the nightstand by the bed.

As he was about to drift off to sleep he heard a soft voice, a whisper right in his ear, felt the very breath of something frosty cold on his skin as it said, "There. Now we're all tucked in for the night."