I don’t know if it helped. He never said, I just remember seeing it in his bedroom one time, after school.
I waited, sensing his need to say more. The sky was grey but he screwed up his eyes, as though against the sun’s glare.
The last time he ran away, he slept in our barn.
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If you’ve just stumbled on this blog, welcome. Ok, 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 