Wait! He’d reached the top of the stairs.
What, don’t want me finding out who else is in on this stupid prank?
I seized the door handle. It was icy. He hurried forward.
Do I look like I’m pranking?
The crying persisted. His face the colour of chalk. Unmoved, I turned the handle.
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 weekday morning and evening. At the weekend I do other stuff. If you’re wondering what you’ve missed, you can catch up with it as one continuous story here. If you like what you’ve read, please feel free to share/ comment/ reblog.
Thanks for visiting!