Wednesday, October 20, 2004


Chapter 9: The Moaning Hole

Far back in the woods 3.5 miles from the lake was a deep sink-hole, ringed with torn roots that made it an inescapable prison. Scattered here and there on the ground was old trash, mostly pull-tab beer cans and shell casings. There was also a map that had been extremely rained on.

From down in the dark hole came a quivering moan, like the person was so sick and scared they wanted to die. Or, was it a person at all?

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