The Haunted House
A Poem For An October Prompt
A scream escapes from the house on the hill,
but no one dares go to check.
To get close invites a warning chill,
like cold fingers brushing your neck.
🏚️
The scream has been heard time and again,
and no one knows what it's about.
For no good samaritan that's ever gone in,
has been known to make it back out.
🏚️😱🏚️😱🏚️😱🏚️😱🏚️😱🏚️😱🏚️😱🏚️😱🏚️😱🏚️😱🏚️😱🏚️😱🏚️
This was written for Prompt #3 on Chloe Rose Violet's October Prompts list:
🏚️😱🏚️😱🏚️😱🏚️😱🏚️😱🏚️😱🏚️😱🏚️😱🏚️😱🏚️😱🏚️😱🏚️😱🏚️
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About the Creator
Kelsey Clarey
She/Her/Fae/Faer. I live in Nova Scotia, Canada. I mostly write poetry and flash fiction currently, a lot of it fantasy/folklore/fairy tale inspired. I also like to do a lot of fiber arts and design TTRPGs.
https://linktr.ee/islanderscaper
Keep reading
More stories from Kelsey Clarey and writers in Poets and other communities.
I Am a Prisoner who Dreams of Prisons
The dream always starts the same: I feel the cold bite of wind gnawing through clothes entirely inadequate to protect from the weather and I realize I am standing in line. Ahead of me and behind me are other inmates, identified by the burgundy scrubs we were issued upon arrival. I don't know where we're going.
By Kyle Cejka5 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
Very creative and powerful Kelsey. Well done!