Friday Fictioneers is hosted by the wonderful Rochelle, the undisputed master of what I call Sound Bite Fiction.
She sets the weekly challenge, the standard, and the prompt photo.
The idea, as always, is to write a story of around 100 words based on the picture below, which this week is supplied by Ted Strutz.
I am still on walkabout in Bonnie Scotland, so this story is a rerun from a couple of years ago.
Click here to hear the author read his words:
There are rumours that the house is haunted.
But who believes that stuff nowadays?
Not a sceptic like me, certainly.
And I have always been quite cynical, right up to when that competitive little thug from Marseille put a bullet in my head.
It is amazing what you learn when you are dead.
Like the truth about ghosts.
Do you know there is no limbo as we understand it?
No, there are houses like this one where it seems that the souls of the wicked just hang around, ineffectual, impotent, invisible.
And over a period of time they rot away, quite painfully, until there is nothing left.