Postcards from the edge

Postcards from the edge
Tales of (mis)adventure from abroad



france stamp

I hadn’t had any luck finding bread in the last few towns I had passed through. Figuring out business hours in France was beyond me. This village was my last chance before nightfall but it was deserted. The silence made it eerie but strangely enchanting. My footsteps echoed off the stone walls of ancient shuttered houses which seemed to grow right out of the landscape. The mist spread through the street and enveloped everything, it felt like the ghosts of the villagers going about their daily routine. I was looking for the cemetery; I wanted to know who they were.


There is one Comment.

  1. comment number 1 by: Martina

    my imagination just took hold.. :) but then again I adore the supernatural…
    I used to love walking cemetery’s late at night, but only the old ones.

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