Wednesday, August 22, 2018

100 Words a Day 1241


The villagers huddled together in the house furthest away from the moor, trying to escape the stinking, chill wind that blew in off their foreboding neighbor’s low, barren hills. The unpredictable wind brought a whiff of the moor’s power howling through the village, tearing at their tightly-shut doors. People caught outside had been known to vanish and the cracks in people’s shutters often revealed strange lights bobbing through the village streets. Anyone who possessed doubts that all things were possible on the moor quickly had them dispelled after a night of weird howls and strange scratchings against their front door.

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