It Was More Fun In Hell

The following is based on events from 1991-1998.

He was bearded, dark haired, only a slightly built man, puffing on a cigarette.

“ Things have been going on there since the seventies, “ he said to me. “ Probably longer. I know the place is evil, because that evil happened to me. It was all in the newspaper. National news. They changed my name to protect my privacy. Happened to more than just me. It's still in me, but not all of it. It had a fondness of attacking women a lot of the time. “

He put his cigarette out, scratched his beard. I could tell from the look on my uncle Paul's face that he was immersed in the memory of that night.

“ You want to bust some ghosts? “ he said. “ Well, man, the place is still standing. Won't be demolished for a while yet. Go through it. Find out for yourself. “

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This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)