The White Bone House: Fantasy

[penthius]

We called it the white bone house when we saw it, to differentiate it from the White House, which was where the big man lived. The white bone house—well, we didn't know what lived in there, nor did we really want to. Bad enough that once in ever-so-long, the white bone of it would turn red and glistening under a full harvest moon. Worse that when it turned, it started appearing in places where we wouldn't usually see it. Not what a girl wants, I'll tell you that. I quit my job at the Kwik-Serve after it appeared across the road, just watching me for my shift. I don't care if it appears everywhere, I've heard enough stories about the omens and bad things following it to know to get out of there once it shows up. My boss was lucky I finished my shift, but that's because I'm such a good, dutiful worker. Okay, and because I was just stubborn enough to want to put up a pro forma resistance. I never said I wasn't stupidly stubborn sometimes, just that I know when it's a bad idea and I do it anyway. The white bone house wasn't so bad. You saw it mostly down along the bayou, or sometimes floating along the river like it was a really big gambling boat, and maybe it was, because when it did that, it had a paddle wheel and everything. We never hoped that it would truly go away and haunt some other town. Partly because every town's got its haunts, and partly because it seemed like this one sometimes brought good luck, too.


Inspiration: Daniel Merriam's Lake House
Story potential: High.
Notes: Mmm, I like this. Nice rural fantasy feel.