The Ghost Drinking My Tequila Wasn’t the Worst of My Problems
This is the short 481-version of my fun ghost story. The sound of knocking woke me at three. A silver crescent moon hung askew outside the bedroom windows. Wind rocked gnarled trees that bent like old men with aging spines. I crept down the stairs, my cell phone in hand with 911 punched in ready to hit send. The refrigerator door creaked open. I hadn’t wanted to admit I’d bought a haunted house. I’d hunted for explanations for the odd…
0 Comments
May 17, 2024