Happy Winter Solstice

I think cold, dark winter nights are spooky. Maybe, it is all the darkness. Maybe it is how eerie moonlight looks on snow. Where I was raised, if there was snow, winter nights could be full of apprehensive silence. The sounds that you could hear, the squeaking of your boots against the snow as you walked or sudden muffled thuds as a clump of snow fell from a tree limb, often came through the filtering system of layers of head gear. You were never quite sure if you could clearly interpret the odd sounds around you.

Years later, I had settled in a warmer climate. One night, maybe about 1976, I became interested in writing a spooky story with a comic book like feel. I remember staying up all night and pecked away on an old electric typewriter. You really need to see the story in your imagination as if it were in a 1950's horror book. I haven't reread it in a long time, but here it is to celebrate the first day of winter. I titled it... Brotherly Love, or What to Do With a Cold Foot.