Haunted Village, Haunted Lives_One starry night_Let Them Play_When Our Neighbour Dorothy Comes to Vi
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Haunted Village, Haunted Lives
“Why don’t you wait in line here with Sonny while I go see if the lines are shorter at other houses?” I say to my husband, Del. “This haunted village is more popular than I thought it would be.”I get a nod from him. He’s shivering slightly from the dark, cold night. I’d just like to get inside and get warm. Our young son in his Halloween costume is toasty and excited to see scary stuff. Waiting in a long line could put an end to that.“If I’m not back in 10 minutes, look for me,” I say to Del.Del says, “Don’t worry; I’ll know you by your perfume. Went a little heavy handed tonight, Dorie.”“By a...
One starry night
She closed hwww.onedoor.ccer eyes and shed a tear then opened them back up to the glowing, starry sky. Lying flat on her back, her ginger hair intertwined with the grass, she stared straight up trying to connect the twinkling lights above as if they could change the past. If she squinted they almost looked like the plastic glow-in-the-dark ones her mom put up in her childhood bedroom. If only she could go back to that tiny, pink room, hug her Dora the explorer pillow and truly believe that everything was okay. It's been a whole month since Tabitha went into hiding and for so long she’s had no one to talk...
Let Them Play
Horace A. Grimwald was, to any casual observer, a serious little man of indeterminate age with comically thick glasses and salt-and-pepper hair. Closer inspection would show that behind his coke-bottle glasses his bright, green eyes were flanked by laugh lines, and the few other wrinkles he had were consistent with someone who smiled a lot more than he seemed to.His employees knew him as a collection of self-contradictions. Horace encouraged his employees to personalize their workspace, but the only decoration on his desk was a hand-carved raccoon, that looked over a hundred years old. While ...
When Our Neighbour Dorothy Comes to Visit
I have known Dorothy since the day I was born. Actually I have known her since the day she came to visit my mother and I in hospital after I was born. She has been a stallwart, a constant that is always next door. She was never the type of neighbour that would come over to borrow a cup of sugar. She was the type of neighbour that if she had too many daisies growing in her backyard, she would put them into a plastic bag and hang the bag on a metal hook made from an old coat hanger, over the old wooden fence. You couldn’t see anything if you tried to look over the fence as it was so high but yo...