Duskwood

The Fog Man of Duskwood

The sound of the television static always felt louder when the room was entirely dark. On Halloween night, the air in Duskwood, Virginia didn’t just feel cold—it felt heavy, as if the shadows themselves were pressing down against the glass of the living room window. I sat on the plush

The Fog Man of Duskwood Read More »

The Ledger of Howard Nestor

The asphalt road leading through Duskwood, Virginia always seemed to swallow the headlights of Owen’s battered old sedan, but tonight, on Halloween, the shadows felt especially heavy. A thick, oppressive fog rolled off the Blue Ridge Mountains, settling into the valleys and wrapping around the trunks of bare oaks like

The Ledger of Howard Nestor Read More »

Scroll to Top