Short stories and poetry from under the porch. Subtle or sweet, creepy or deranged it’s all the same wrapped in webs it will never leave.

Old decrepit house

Just shouts and up dates snow goons Harley and creek water obnox and king Klick mad child, stuff is in the works patiently waiting sorry for the lags

Graves are silent again

Grandpa tells a tale, and typewriter is introduced. I’ll be caretaking soon.

Still writing had to put out something bare with me

People, ghosts and spirits all the same heaven or hell bound were all cought in the mix. Hopes this helps with clarity

The nature of the horror business and how it all started, however, I’m sorry it wasn’t live