One spooky night in October, I was walking back home alone, I was passing my neighbour’s house, When I heard a terrible moan. I looked around, frightened and scared, Then I laughed at myself and grinned, “You’re being silly, it’s nothing. It was probably just the wind.” But that’s when I heard it again, A frightening, worrisome whine. It came from the neighbour’s garden. From a ghost on the washing line. The phantom was pale and white, It fluttered and flapped in the breeze, So I screamed and ran to my door, Desperately clutching my keys. I climbed...
big is dead, long live smol.
