A true, spooky little tale.
When I was a teenager I lived on the middle floor of a tri-plex that was kind of old, but not too old. It had a fantastic front porch with a white banister and columns perching up the little roof that kept it covered.
It wasn’t a very big apartment, but the 3 bedroom layout suited our little family. My bedroom was the last one on the right down a short hallway. It was the Master bedroom which my parents gave to me because my house was where all my friends hung out. I could sleep 6 girls on mattresses, had a T.V and my stereo. It was my haven and I loved it. Continue reading “The Butter Dish”