That summer Ginny, Mark, and I were best friends and nothing thrilled us more than a late night excursion to Hoskins Farm, the broken-down haunted farmhouse beyond the lake.
We three would stumble our way to the darkest part of the house and I’d say "Hope something happens" in a spooky voice and Ginny would laugh her golden laugh.
Mark moved away, Ginny amazingly said “I do,” and last thing I expected was a call "Coming to town, let's do Hoskins.” Once again we three stumbled our way to the darkest part of the house and once again I said "Hope something happens” in a spooky voice.
"Ah, but tonight something will" said Mark, closing his fingers around my throat, and once again Ginny laughed her golden laugh I'd not heard since the summer Ginny, Mark, and I were best friends.
Picture prompt above, story below, 142 words (a lot), and for some reason this week I decided to go eerie instead of funny. Of course many people think I am normally eerie instead of funny, but this week at least it's intentional.
This post is my contribution to the Fabulous Flying Friday Fictioneers and White Picket Fence Painting Brigade for the fourth week of February, 2013. But don't you go painting any fences when you can click over to a whole haunted house full of stories from the other fictioneers. You'll find funny, eerie, and everything in between.
Enjoy, and let me hear your golden laugh!