Happiness. It's relative.
Look in the garage attic. Just pull the rope and the stairs will come down. It’s probably been twenty years since we’ve been up there but I know that’s where she’s hiding. I hear her sometimes late at night, skittering around, scratching.
Her soul won’t leave the place.
I like the way this travels out of the everyday into something more sinister. Very nice build-up of suspense.
Leaves me wanting more. Well done!
Some things just won’t back down ’til they get the attention they need. Even things that skitter in the night.
Perhaps it’s the Halloween season approaching, but I sense a ghost!
Great. Now I won’t sleep tonight. *grin*