I’m working on several things at the moment, including the as-of-yet STILL untitled short story and […]
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From Joe's writing

Shawn slowly climbed the old wooden stairs, listening to the low creak that sounded from his footsteps. He hoped the wood wouldn’t collapse beneath him. But the stairs held strong and a moment later he joined his friend in the kitchen of the old house, a wave of suffocating humidity washing over them as they stepped deeper into its secrets.

— Small Things, Chapter 16