First Snow
I loved the house.
Until the first snowfall.
I was going to my car when I spotted tracks leading from the shed: odd organic impressions with claws marks splaying at random angles.
They led to my basement door, now open.
Something is in my house, I thought, suddenly terrified. Sometime during the night, something had crawled out of the shed and into my house.
A feral moan came from the shed. Instantly, I knew Iād been wrong. The thing was now in the shed. Meaning it had come from the house.
It had been in my house the whole time.
The Green-Walled Treehouse 
Love the description of a feral man. I really got that since New York City Streets are filled with them…hair wild…insanity in their eyes.
I also love Lisa Fox’s photo. It’s stark with beware braying from its doorstep. I just saw the man and you broadside, like two leery ships. OOH, just got a chill.
Good one David. š
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I figured this time of the year was a good chance to do something a bit more creepy. š
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Creepy works. Just ask Tim. š
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What a clever use of the snow to create the tracks that reveal the existence of something that had been there all along. I loved this
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And then…
it started to snow. š
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Dear David,
It doesn’t sound like first contact is going to be particularly pleasant for the narrator. This is a page turner.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Dang it. I hate it when that happens! Thanks for the Halloween chiller, David.
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Thanks, Lisa. š
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You’re welcome š
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Terrifying realization.
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