Reblog of an old post.
Desperate for ghost stories, I hung on the words of my superstitious Maw Maw. While the men were out hunting, she held her grandchildren spellbound with all the scary tales she knew. Should she falter, one of my aunts urged her on…”Mama, remember about the big black dogs running through the house.” Her stories were more terrifying because she believed them with all her being.
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