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The Visit

The old man awkwardly opened the heavy door. He was nervous because he hadn’t seen his son, Tim, since he sent him to secretly live with his granddad. He had done it to keep his son safe. His ex-wife made him out to be unhinged, but she was the real headcase.

Salty Baby Bottle

The place was smaller than he remembered it. “Hello?” he cried out. No one answered. He eventually found them both napping and sighed in disappointment. He was worried. Tim was looking rather scrawny these days and he smelled awful. He’d have to talk to granddad about this when he woke up.

He was a patient man. He’d wait. He had all day. After all, graveyards don’t close until sunset.

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14 thoughts on “The Visit

  1. couldn’t bring myself to hit the “like” button. Maybe if it read “disturbed” I would have hit it, cause that’s how I feel reading it – twice over.

    saddened, gruesome, and disturbed. I think that means you did a good job, and you did your job.
    Randy

    • Disturbed is always a good thing when one is writing horror. It’s the feeling I always attempt to invoke in my readers… This is a rather tame tale for me though. I’ll be posting up some of my other stories soon. πŸ˜‰

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