A very short story by JK Bovi

The insane plan to test human endurance, courage and heroic fortitude started on Friday at eight o’clock in the morning. Three determined delusional fools arrived on the beach at noon, strapped themselves to the sea wall with bungee cords, rope, and twist ties to stupidly ride out the hurricane.

At three o’clock hundred mile an hour winds howled, ripped off their clothes, pelted them with sand and rattled their bones with huge powerful ten foot waves.

At six o’clock the idiots were washed out to sea, gasped their final breath and sunk to the bottom to Davey Jones’ locker. He greeted them with a boney deadman’s smile and said, “Now ain’t y’all just plain dead stupid.”

Books By JK Bovi
www.wickedhaints.com

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The Ghosts of Tin City Savannah

You can look for the location of Tin City on a map of Savannah, but you won’t find it. Like the ghosts that haunted it, the whole place just up and disappeared.

Tin City used to be east of Savannah nestled in overgrown grassland and abandoned rice fields. It was established in 1929 by an impoverished African-American man, Louis Ellis, who was granted permission to settle there. He built a home with discarded tin and scrap metal. He made a little garden for growing his own foods. Soon other African Americans joined him and they also built homes constructed of tin and junk metals. Soon Tin City became a little self-sufficient community and they even had a Mayor to represent them.

And of course they had a few ghosts

The Mayor, Nathaniel Lewis, had a short creepy annoying ghost that waited at his gate. If he talked to the spirit it would attack him, but if he ignored the spirit it wouldn’t do him harm. Naturally the Mayor pretended the ghost wasn’t there… but it was.

There were three ghosts that stood watch over what everyone believed was buried pirate treasure. The community made an attempt to dig up the gold, but just when they saw it at the bottom of the pit, the treasure fell deeper and out of reach. The three ghosts laughed and howled. Nobody went treasure hunting after that.

And of course Tin City had the usual dead folk who float around a few feet off the ground and don’t do much of anything at all. Except maybe when they fly in on a whirlwind and cause all sorts of trouble.

Tin City is gone, but what about the ghosts? Are they still there? Have they moved into Savannah and taken up residence in better accommodations?

Who knows what happens to places and people when they’re forgotten. Perhaps they linger on… waiting to be remembered.

Books By JK Bovi
www.wickedhaints.com

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The Shrimp Factory

The Shrimp Factory on River Street in Savannah is the-place-to-go for some delicious local seafood. Today it’s decorated with coastal art displayed on old Savannah brick walls, but in 1823 it was a cotton warehouse.

The story goes that slaves worked all day in poor conditions pushing and hauling bales of cotton from the warehouse to shipping vessels. It’s understandable that perhaps a few might’ve died in the building and their spirits might be haunting The Shrimp Factory. Muted voices and rattling chains and unexplainable sounds are often heard on the top floor (where the slaves were kept) and when investigated nobody is there.

During the summer the staircase leading to the storage room is hot, but sometimes in the evening, about halfway up the stairs there is a blast of cold air.

Some employees believe the cold spot is the ghost of a former employee named Joe. Although Joe was in good health, for some unknown reason he dropped dead on the staircase in August 1977. Joe also likes to hang out in the liquor storage room and, upon occasion has been known to knock over a few bottles of rum. He’s also been thought to be the mischievous culprit responsible for flickering lights and shutting down of all things electrical.

So if your in the mood for some popcorn shrimp, oysters on the half shell and want to enjoy watching the ships go up and down The Savannah River, then this might be a good place to go for dinner.

And if the ghost sitting at the next table asks for the hot sauce, please have some respect for the dead and pass it on over. It’s the polite Savannah thing to do.

Books By JK Bovi
www.wickedhaints.com

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Aargh! Ghosts In The Pirate House

The building for The Pirates’ House Restaurant in Savannah Georgia is over 250 years old. And so, it only stands to reason that a place being that old, and also being in Savannah, can mean only one thing…. it’s haunted!

During the golden olden days, when Pirates sailed off the Georgia coast, it’s understandable they’d drop in to the old tavern on the bluff for a tankard of rum. (Savannah has always been a hospitable friendly party town.) Rumor has it that not only did pirates come to town, but upon occasion they’d Shanghai a few drunken sailors into a secret tunnel under the tavern and make them join their pirate team.

With so many pirates coming and going it’s possible some notorious evil-doers died here and never left or they just decided to return to haunt the old tavern.

They say shadow ghost pirates can been seen lurking in the corners, and the thump-thump-thump of a peg-leg sailor can be heard stumbling across the wood floorboards. Photos taken outside of the inside capture the flash a golden pirate toothy grin. While dining people sometimes get the sensation of being watched… by a ghostly one-eyed pirate with a black eye patch perhaps?

It’s believed Captain Flint, from the book Treasure Island, died in The Pirates’ House and he haunts the place, which would be appropriate considering he’s a fictional character.

There’s no doubt there were deviant pirates pillaging off the Georgia coast and also believable they’d sail into Savannah for a good o’l Pirate-fest, but all I know is; I’ve dined at The Pirate House and although I did see a creepy skeleton bone display and a gift shop, I did not see, hear or sense any paranormal pirate activity.

But perhaps on that particular evening the ghost Pirates were sailing on the high seas, raising the black flag, slitting throats, walking gangplanks and collecting treasure. Or could it be the ghost pirates are just waiting offshore for favorable winds so they can return to The Pirates’ House and order the shrimp gumbo?

The Pirates’ House is a location in my book Zombies Y’all! There’s lots of excitement happening in the underground Shanghai tunnels when they’re filled with hungry zombies!

Books By JK Bovi
www.wickedhaints.com

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