In the world of spirits, an aroma appearing out of nowhere often signifies a presence, a loved one, perhaps, or something far more sinister, as if summoned from the depths of hell itself. At the end of January, I experienced such an event. I was sitting in my lounge, watching television, when I was suddenly engulfed by a sickly smell of body odor.
If this was a ghost, I dreaded to think what kind of message it was trying to convey. The only words I managed to utter in that oddly poignant moment were: “The bathroom’s free.” Strangely, I felt no fear. Something within me knew it was a man young, dressed in dark clothing and, that he wasn’t here to harm me. He was merely... resting, as strange as it sounds to imagine a spirit world where rest is needed. I sensed he would leave when he was ready.
That night, I went to bed, leaving the spirit behind. By morning, the house felt normal again. The sickly smell had vanished, replaced by fresh air. But less than two weeks later, my uninvited guest returned. The pungent odor filled the room I was in, and once again, I said, “So you’re back. Bathroom’s free.” Again, I felt no fear, only a quiet certainty that this was temporary and he would move on.
This time, I had a clearer impression of him. He felt like a young man from the 1950s, perhaps in his mid-20s, and I couldn’t shake the sense that he had died during that era. Ignoring the smell, I focused on my television. Around 9:30 p.m., I decided to move to the bedroom to watch TV there. Later, at 11:00 p.m., I went downstairs for a drink.
As I passed the living room door, a faint whiff of my spectral visitor greeted me. I knew he was nearby, though I couldn’t see him. After grabbing my drink from the kitchen, I returned to the hallway. This time, there was nothing not the smell, not a trace of his presence. By the next morning, the house was once again fresh and free of any lingering odor.
My whiffy guest seemed to have moved on, but his visits left me with lingering questions. Do wandering spirits, like this one, need to pause and rest as we do? Or was there something about me, some unknown energy, that attracted him to this house?
Whatever the truth may be, the experience reminded me of the peculiar ways the spirit world brushes against our own a reminder that even the mysterious, in all its oddities, can hold a strange kind of wonder.
Written by Irene Allen-Block.
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