Just then a voice cried out "Ahoy!"
And there she was, just a-sitting on a buoy.
...that's meaning a buoy for the ships what sail,
And not a boy what's a juvenile male.
--The Man at the Nore, sung here by John Roberts
[tried to post this last night, but the internet was briefly down:]
Obligatory hurricane East Coast post: I'm fine. The lights haven't even flickered here in Dorchester, the sky has cleared and the full moon is shining. I spent the day lying around writing and reading classic ghost stories while the rain battered the windows and the wind shook the house.
This is the perfect ghost/horror story to read in a New England storm. The author does claustrophobia and cabin fever, fear of the outdoors, the sea, and sex, all at the same time and very well. Warning: unlike a lot of the horror I enjoy, this one is actually freaking scary. The rest of the collection is good too.
...that's meaning a buoy for the ships what sail,
And not a boy what's a juvenile male.
--The Man at the Nore, sung here by John Roberts
[tried to post this last night, but the internet was briefly down:]
Obligatory hurricane East Coast post: I'm fine. The lights haven't even flickered here in Dorchester, the sky has cleared and the full moon is shining. I spent the day lying around writing and reading classic ghost stories while the rain battered the windows and the wind shook the house.
This is the perfect ghost/horror story to read in a New England storm. The author does claustrophobia and cabin fever, fear of the outdoors, the sea, and sex, all at the same time and very well. Warning: unlike a lot of the horror I enjoy, this one is actually freaking scary. The rest of the collection is good too.