“It’s not bullshit if it’s true.” She sat at the table. When he made a face at her, she gave her head a slight shake and asked, “What?”

“There you are,” he replied, “a ghost in my very own kitchen and looking as normal as a basket of fruit.”

[She] laughed. “A basket of fruit?”

He opened a beer and sat across from her. “I feel better. You can go now.”

disclaimer–poetry and fiction snippet content are my own original content. unauthorized reproduction of any post content, without prior written permission, is in direct violation of applicable copyright laws.


Author: Mari Adkins

Appalachian gothic fiction writer - my works reflect a love of literature flavored by the darkness and magic residing in these ancient mountains. In my spare time, I'm a Simmer, I tumbl, I journal, but I always have a very strange sense of humor. I have lived away from the mountains and lived deep in the mountains. I currently live in Central Kentucky with my lifepartner and his cat. The mountains, their culture, their superstitions, their particular magics, will always be in my blood.