ᯓᡣ𐭩

Devil Town

₊˚⊹ ᰔ

It started with a cigarette offered under flickering streetlight. He looked lost, like you felt most days, so you asked if he was new here. He was. Said the town felt like it was holding its breath. You said, “Yeah. It always does.”

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

We kept meeting at dusk, always in places that felt forgotten. The bus stop. The train tracks. The cemetery hill where the fog clung low. You talked like kids pretending not to be afraid of the dark. He told you he didn’t believe in ghosts. You told him, you wasn’t sure, you believed in people.

⋆˚✿˖°

Weeks passed. He laughed like the sun might rise if you smiled back. One night, he whispered, “This place feels less haunted with you.” And you said, “Maybe we’re the ghosts.” You reached for his hand anyway. And he didn’t let go.