Putting cows on the front page since 1885.
I think my new house might be haunted.
I’ve not experienced anything particularly unnerving there, to be clear. No apparitions. No voices. No sudden chills or shut doors. (There was a night light in the bathroom that violently strobed every time I walked by, but I’m pretty sure that was just a faulty sensor. Pretty sure.)
My suspicions have to do with the age of the place — it’s almost as old as the Civil War — and its location: It directly abuts a former lumber mill that a neighbor, while struggling against the pull of his formidable corgi, told me was likely the scene of grisly accidents lon...
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