I don’t know about you, but I find there’s something especially eerie about an urban legend. It’s that suggestion that it might be true – after all, these stories often originate from a ‘friend of a friend’, which immediately makes them more frighteningly believable.
I used to have a pathological fear of short stories. Not reading them, of course. I’ve always found reading short stories to be a joy, particularly when they’re written well.
I’m talking about writing them. Whether a 500 or 5,000-word limit, the prospect of sitting down and crafting something so precise, with not a word out of place, used to panic me on all sorts of levels.
A few months ago, a truly magnificent (not to mention funny) story hit the headlines of the Plymouth Herald. According to the report, a group of local ghost hunters had managed to catch the first ever ‘elephant ghost’ on camera.
Both Dawlish Warren and Dawlish town are great little seaside spots within a twenty-minute walk of one another. They’re only a short drive from Exeter, so we frequently find ourselves heading in that direction, particularly when the sun’s out.