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"Begin with a ghost. Dim the bulbs in your small rented cabin until the moonlight beams bluish shadows down over everything. Sit on the arm of the foldout sofa where your five-year-old son sleeps — weekend visitations only, as your ex-wife stipulated, and once in a while on Wednesdays when she has date-night with her new beau, a lounge singer named Tony. Then, lean close and whisper that his mother’s house, the one he lives in now, is haunted, terribly so."
2 comments:
Hey, man, thanks much for the bump. You rock it!
No sir, you rock it, as only the Ostdick can.
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