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Far Liath Weather Far Liath WeatherNate Welsh didn’t mind the fog, but this particular fog made him uneasy. It moved disturbingly like a living intelligence, the long fingers of fog seemed to have an oily consistence as it reached out and caressed his face. It spun in great, towering spirals as it retreated before him, only to suddenly close in and envelope him.Dimly ahead, he could just make out the lights of the other investigative team. Toward the west, the soft murmur of the ocean, and the continuous mournful drone of the fog horns.Grimacing, he pulled the hood of his slicker further over his hairy ears, while moisture dripped from his long aquiline nose. His eyes narrowed slightly as he carefully regarded the ground visible in the narrow beam of light cast by his electri
Curiosity Killed the Rat Curiosity Killed The RatIt was ten minutes past two when the storm that was pummeling Curtisville finally slowed to a whisper. The nearby sea became as smooth as glass, and so pale with fog that it resembled a silver-plated mirror. Once again,the whole town soon disappeared beneath a veil of gray haze.On the other side of Azalea Street, seven-year old Marc Henshaw stirred uneasily in his sleep as he dreamt of a crowd of shadowy figures emerging from a creepy, Hobbit-like house in the middle of a dark forest. They came armed with pitchforks, scythes, axes, clubs and knives, as if they were going up against a Hollywood-type monster.Something was wrong. Faintly, he could smell smoke and burnt meat. And what was that noise? It sounded like sparklers crackling and popping.
The Canaries The Canaries “There are black zones of shadows close to our daily paths, and now and then some evil souls breaks a passage through. When that ha
Shadow, Fog and Firelight Shadow, Fog and FirelightWeeeee-ooo! Weeeee-ooo! Weeeee-ooo! Madeleine Hawthorne awoke to the mournful sound of the foghorn from nearby Hogan’s Gap. Faint streams of moonlight illuminated the foggy, rain covered panes of the large bedroom, revealing the walls of various posters and costumes, fabric and fashion accessories.For a moment she lay staring up at the upper bunk where her sister Giselle, age ten, slept. Then she turned her head and looked at the round bay window opposite the bed. Wavering shadowy patterns glided slowly over the glass--shapes that didn’t seem to match any of the windblown trees or silvery rain trails. They seem more like a fantastic tumult of microscopic pond life rather than anything that could be visibly recognized from her backyar
On a Lonesome Road On a Lonesome RoadIt was Olivia Satoui who first noticed the mailbox on the return trip from Curtisville Jr. High. “Well, that’s weird,” the seventh-grader said, half aloud, frowning. “Looks like an old mailbox, but I”m sure it wasn’t there on the way to school.”“What is?” Madeline Hawthorn sat beside her, rooting through her backpack. One of Olivia’s best friends, she sometimes got teased for her resemblance to the Brattina Stone