|Atticus lives in the (gloam) wrote in repose,|
@ 2016-03-09 21:39:00
[A discerning eye might notice that the heaviest concentration of incidents - and those of longest duration - are in the vicinity of the B&B.
On Wednesday night, something strange happens in Repose. It would almost seem like Halloween in the middle of Spring, as if trick or treat got lost, if it wasn't for the acrid scent in the air and the freezing cold that accompanies every incident.
In a wave of activity, doors in the town close - front doors, basement doors, bathroom doors, and bedroom doors. They slam, they scream on hinges, and they creak like they're in old horror movies. Once closed, they lock, and windows follow suit. For a few minutes, no tugging or shoving can budge the doors or windows, and the acrid cold remains thick and heavy. Some houses remain unaffected, but that just makes them stand out suspiciously amid the oddness, doesn't it?
Then, the doors all return to their previous states, as do the windows. And that ominous kiss on the night air? Surely it's just a trick of the imagination.]