Unknown diary entry, PdL
One 4th May, Yesteryear...
A curious thing last night, which I should like to forget - perhaps if I put it down here, I may see it in its true proportion.
I worked in the study from 8 o'clock until 10 o'clock. The serenity of the room was interrupted by the constant ticking of the clock, however the street and the pathway outside seemed to be unusually full of what I can only call movement without sound.
By this, I mean there seemed to be continuous coming and going, and that whenever I ceased writing to listen or look out of the window, the stillness of the street was absolutely unbroken.
When the clock struck ten, my thoughts were again disturbed by a wretched scream. This time I could not be mistaken, for a commotion had begun to happen outside on the street, this time movement with sound.
These imaginary happenings, I am well aware, are a common symptom of incipient decay of the brain - however as this is my first instance, I am not disheartened. Nor is there anything in my family history to give colour to such an idea.
My conviction of the ghostly happenings prior to the clock striking could well be construed as imaginary and figments of an excitable imagination. Since putting it down here, I see their true proportion and have no wish to dwell on the ghosts of Praia de Luz.