Emily Gray
Bio
Longtime ghostwriter for other bloggers and self-help publications, newtime ghostwriter for myself. https://sites.google.com/view/thewriteremilygray/home
Stories (3/0)
The Old Wooden Bridge
Eleanor Evans was well known in town for her odd behavior, but she was known almost as well for the tall palomino horse she rode each day. Toby was beautiful cream-colored mount, with a thick mane and tail. His face always wore an expression of good-natured geniality, and the children in town fawned over him until their parents shooed them away from the woman. “Eerie Ellie” and Toby could be seen every day on the road to and from town. The two would start out in the high pastures, lit from behind by the bright morning light. They’d ride down the valley and join up with the main road, plodding along as the wagons rolled by, coating them in a fine layer of dust. Eventually they’d make it into town where Ellie would trade her goods for what she needed to get by; flour, cloth, cream. Ellie was something of a medicine woman. She’d gather and make her wares from the land around the cabin. Berries from along the roadside, mushrooms from deep in the forest. She had salves for burns, creams for rashes, and word was you could get other medicines with a darker purpose if you only had the coin. The townspeople were wary around her; they kept their distance, did their business with her when other means failed. Ellie and the folk mostly left each other alone, an unspoken agreement to live and let live. With the exception of the Burton Boys.
By Emily Gray3 years ago in Horror
The McGuire Place Tradition
I had never had the poor fortune of spending the night in the old McGuire place. I arrived in Carrolton the summer of my seventh-grade year, dragged to this new house by my father’s promotion and the rising cost of living in the town we left behind. After hearing the tales from the gang on May Street though, I have often felt gratitude that I arrived one year too late to take part in that childhood ritual.
By Emily Gray3 years ago in Horror
The Book Will Do the Rest
Mel hated taking the city bus. Waiting in the cold, the awkward movement around other strangers crowded around a dirty shelter. That spike of anxiety as the bus pulled up, Mel always worried she wouldn’t have enough money on her card or that she wouldn’t find a seat. Or worst of all, the excitement of finding an empty row, only to have a stranger ask her to move her bag two stops later.
By Emily Gray3 years ago in Humans
