Wendy Ghost (#9)

The boy’s house sits aside the road, in a clearing surrounded by trees. A full moon shines down on the scene where bonfires burn and revelers dance. Spirits fly upward in a translucent host, curling into the sky. Music plays from somewhere distant, but still heard, for this is the night of the dead girl’s festival. Shadows creep where normally there are none. Age shrouds with dust and web those things normally unblemished. He searches for his father in vain, wishing for the fear to end. Memories of this night will haunt him for the rest of his life.

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