This story was related to me by Bonnie, the mother of an old school friend.

Her husband, a miner, worked the third shift, leaving Bonnie and her two small children alone during the early hours of the morning. One winter morning, before light, she discovered that she had ran out of coal that she used to heat the small house they lived in at the time. This necessitated a trip to the coal pile, located at the edge of their yard, which was edged by an old family cemetery. It had been used for years, and was, in fact the resting place of her first child, which had died in infancy.

Anyway, as she gathered the coal, she became aware of a presence behind her. Looking over her shoulder, she spotted the head of a man floating toward her, like a balloon, with an evil smile upon his face.

In fear, she dropped her bucket, and raced toward the house, closing and locking the door behind her. Looking out the window, she saw the floating head approach the house, still grinning, only to "pop" like a bubble as it reached the front steps, and disappear.

It was spied in the early morning dusky light--that time of morning that is not quite dark, but not yet full daylight. Bonnie was very emphatic that it was not a free floating balloon, lost by some child, and following the morning breeze. She said the look on the face was utterly evil, and will never forget the fear she felt, or the relief in escaping it.