The Wrong Way Home

Inspired by Samhain / Halloween, and the fact that I’m reading the spooky The Turn of the Screw by Henry James, I thought I would try my hand at a spooky tale of my own for this weekend’s writing prompt…

The Wrong Way Home

Night was falling fast in the forest.  Soon it would be dark.  I shuddered, gazing up at the waymarker.

There was something strange about the arrow on the signpost.  I was sure I had seen it before, only it was pointing the other way.

I was tired, I told myself.  That’s all.  I wasn’t going round in circles, and there certainly wasn’t someone hiding behind the trees, changing the signs.

I took the left fork which said, “Town – 3 Miles”, and went on my way.  A little while later, by the light of the full moon, I read the next sign, pointing to the right.  “Town – 3 Miles.”

The forest was unnaturally silent.  Suddenly I felt scared.

The bushes rustled.  I heard a rasping sigh.

‘Home is this way,’ a voice said from out of the darkness.

Written for Weekend Writing Prompt #78 – Arrow

13 thoughts on “The Wrong Way Home

  1. Oh lovely. Shivers tracked down my spine. Though that could be the draught straight in from Siberia.
    And your story has resonance, having repeated those actions of circling around, fully disoriented. On that occasion, I blamed the fairies: I’d been so involved in finding and photographing their fungi.

    Liked by 1 person

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