Welcome to Friday Fictioneers – hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.
I usually write something original, but today I’m hijacking a few sentences from my current manuscript because they fit the picture. This story is about a curse.
‘Does it matter,’ he sighed, ‘because the reality is, I’ve not left this estate in over one hundred and fifty years.’
I shook my head in disbelief—why not simply walk out the gate? Flaws, there had to be flaws in his tale.
‘I only exist in corporeal form when the house is occupied by females—women, girls. The moment a man or boy steps through the gate, I disappear.’
‘To where?’ I scoffed.
‘I don’t know, but not here. Whenever you leave, so do I. When you return, I do. When the house is empty, that is what I become. I am a spirit somewhere’