The entire town puts on a face for the summer. The tourists buy in, intoxicated by the thin, fresh ocean air, bright sun and high winds. Its one of the best places on earth to fly kites, and the many shops show that.
As soon as the season is over however, the immortal spirits drop their charade. The deer and locals act as if they are one, and although the residents are not evil, nor offputting, there is something not quite right.
The roads loop and twist, always seeming to lead back into this trap of a town. Visitors become drunk if they visit outside of tourist season. The entire town calms the very soul, from the ambient sounds to the fearless wildlife, it truly is a place that should be respected, not out of fear, but patience. If you visit, and you're careful, you're sure to be rewarded
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A NorthWest Gothic
ParanormalA small collection of gothic stories I wrote about the Pacific NorthWest
