The Ghost Candle: An October Trading Story

 

The Ghost Candle: An October Trading Story

It started like any normal morning. I wake up and grab the computer. I wipe the crusties out of my eyes and try to focus as the high beam of the computer monitor cuts through the blackness of the 6am US open trading session. I am used to the torture, though. For years the interrogation tactics of the power button have left me with an increasing tolerance to the pain of the bright morning light. Shaking off the discomfort, I open my charts. In a zombie trance, my hand guides the cursor effortlessly to the 5- and 1-minute charts of the Euro/Dollar.

With the trained eye of a bird of prey, I gaze down on the field as it sprawls out before me, taking note of every zig and zag of the candles as they march endlessly rightward. This is my war room. I watch for my moment, taking in every flicker of the candle as they expand and contract. I watch them open and close, each minute sealing its record in history. That’s when it arrives, the moment of truth, the line in the sand, the show of the hand. The candle darts upward. The move is decisive, the speed furious.

I swoop in with the force of 20 lots. Starving for the chase, and moving in for the kill, the adrenaline fills every space of my body with the force of a 10-kilo bomb. I have it--it’s in my grasp. I can taste the victory. It’s mine! Then, in as quickly as it came, it disappears. In an instant, a cold chill prickles my body and I realize what I just saw... It was a ghost candle.

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