So there I was, minding my own business, not bothering anyone. The front door and all the porch windows were flung wide, being one of those rare autumn days where New England had forgotten that Old Man Winter was lurking ‘round the corner. Continue reading
Ligeia watched as Calliope rummaged through the old sea chest, filled with forgotten remnants of other people’s lives. In the beginning, the pair had spent decades poring through its contents. More bored than curious, they’d made up wordless ghost stories about the misadventures of those who’d lived in the cottage before. Continue reading
“We need to talk.”
There’s a crazy lady in my living room.
