By John Young

In the corner of the attic of his recently deceased mother’s house an ancient dusty cardboard box attracts Harry’s attention. Faint lettering on the box spells out the word ‘Photographs’.

He finds the eerily tinted photograph of long dead Uncle Colin whose scary, staring eyes were always looking at him when he was a toddler.

“My God!!” Harry exclaims, gazing dumbfounded at the identical image of a younger version of himself.

As he moves around the attic Harry thinks about genetics. He glances frequently at the photograph propped against the box. He chuckles. Uncle Colin’s eyes seem to follow him.

“I like spooky stuff, the boundary areas between ‘normal’ and odd experience. I write to express what ‘bubbles up’ from … well, I don’t know where.” – the writer

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s