A postcard

Dear Father McAlister

Yes that’s a star fish on my head. You know, those five fingered flesh lumps you were so eager to call ‘nonsense’ and ‘propaganda’.

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A bit of a story you’ll never read the rest of

Amber was expecting the sound, but it sent shivers down her spine nevertheless. When you hear footsteps creaking up the staircase, footsteps that are much too heavy to be your mums despite the fact that she’s the only other person meant to be here, you can’t help but feel a little frightened.

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