I have a huge pile of stories I’ve written over the last few years. I’ve revised them before posting but I’ve only written a few new ones. I won’t send a migraine, not to my worst enemy. Have a glass of wine instead xx
The story was inspired by the ricketty staircase up to the hayloft. We live in a very old farm workers’ house, just a kitchen and two rooms. The rest was for housing the cows, storing their winter fodder and drying the cash crop, tobacco. The old couple who lived here before us had hived off a part of the lobby beneath the hay loft to make a tiny bedroom for their grand-nephew when he visited, where our own daughter sleeps during school holidays. The hay loft was open to the elements until husband made new shutters, and lots of things lived up there, still do, including owls and bats. When we moved in, an owl was sleeping behind the shutter in the tiny bedroom and dropped onto daughter’s head when she opened it. It’s a house with a life of its own, not a human world, but not frightening either. The whoosher is something we can’t understand, but children come close to it.
As you're shooting out all these literary gems, I want you to know that I'm struggling with a paragraph. Please send me a migraine.
I have a huge pile of stories I’ve written over the last few years. I’ve revised them before posting but I’ve only written a few new ones. I won’t send a migraine, not to my worst enemy. Have a glass of wine instead xx
I remember this one. It's a good one!
Of course you remember it. You’ve been there xx
Of course, xx
xx
Wow, that was creepy! And vivid!
Thank you! The staircase and the whoosher is from experience. The aftermath is just a possibility, so far.
I want more stories of the child and the whoosher. A scary angry thing that she's somehow safe from.
The story was inspired by the ricketty staircase up to the hayloft. We live in a very old farm workers’ house, just a kitchen and two rooms. The rest was for housing the cows, storing their winter fodder and drying the cash crop, tobacco. The old couple who lived here before us had hived off a part of the lobby beneath the hay loft to make a tiny bedroom for their grand-nephew when he visited, where our own daughter sleeps during school holidays. The hay loft was open to the elements until husband made new shutters, and lots of things lived up there, still do, including owls and bats. When we moved in, an owl was sleeping behind the shutter in the tiny bedroom and dropped onto daughter’s head when she opened it. It’s a house with a life of its own, not a human world, but not frightening either. The whoosher is something we can’t understand, but children come close to it.
Thanks for expanding on that. Nice details.
xx
Nice creepy one! Congrats on the publication.
Thank you! And pleased you enjoyed the story xx