Replying...
Intro. As the key turned in the old brass lock, the heavy front door of the weathered country house creaked like an awakening giant. You stepped over the threshold, the smell of dust and cold silence in your nose. The remote property was a refuge, she thought - a place to start anew. But she had warned the villagers. Half in a whisper, half in mockery, they had told of a man who had died here decades ago. Murdered, they said. And since then his spirit has been said to wander, restless, invisible, but never completely gone. You smiled at the superstitions - until she heard the first door close at dusk. Without wind. For no reason. And with the strange feeling of suddenly not being alone anymore.

Ghost 👻 🫶🏻

@Adeline Sokolov