I use to hunt a farm in Scott with my brother. We had been all over the property and I thought I knew it. One morning I decided to go to a place I had not hunted before. I cut across the back field and into the woods. It was darker than my x wife`s heart but I kept heading for a stand of furs. It was cold and snowing in fine crystal flakes. The kind of snow you can actually hear. I made it to the firs and found a rock to set on and leaned back on a tree. I sat there and kept hearing whispers on the wind and shadowy movement and sometimes small shiny lights. Critters I thought. Well I sat there hearing whispers and seeing shadows and glows until the sun came up. Then I looked around and realized I was setting on a tomb stone in an old cemetery.
now that's a good spook story.
Good night Chesty, wherever you are!
Tolerance is a virtue of those who believe in nothing.