Category : Stories

Sub Category : Horror

During my childhood my family was like a drop of water in the vast river,never remaining in one location very long. we settled in Rhone island when I was eight,and there we remained until I went to college in Colorado springs. Most of my memories are rooted in Rhone island,but there are fragments in the attic of my brain which belong to the various homes we lived in when I was much younger

Most of these memories are unclear and pointless – chasing another boy in the backyard of a house in North Carolina,trying to build a raft to float on the creek behind the apartment we rented Pennsylvania,and so on. But there is one set of memories which remains as clear glass,as though they were just made yesterday. I often wonder whether if these memories are simply lucid dreams produced by the long sickness I experience that Spring,but in my heart, I knew they were real.

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end of part one hope you enjoyed