I hadn’t dared move the dream catcher. It hung at the window, like a warning, in a room I avoided after dark.
He was fascinated by it.
A dream catcher… funny coincidence.
No big deal. Some local weirdo, trying to scare me.
He ran his fingers over its faded feathers, lost in thought.
(280 characters)
If you’re stumbling across this blog for the first time, welcome. And here’s the deal. I’m attempting to write a ghost story one tweet (280 characters or less) at a time. A new installment will be published at 7.30, every morning and evening between now and Friday. At the weekend I do other stuff. If you’re wondering what you’ve missed, you can avoid multiple clicking, and read it as one continuous story here. If you like what you’ve read, please feel free to share/ comment/ reblog.
Thanks for visiting!
kirstwrites 
I applaud your commitment to this. You must want to dash forward with it at times!
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Ah, you don’t know how far forward I actually am!
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