Grandpa's New Hole: Chapter Three
- Hamlin
- Apr 16
- 6 min read
The late afternoon sun hung low, a heavy orange glow bleeding across the sprawling backyard. Janey stepped out from the house, her sandals sinking into the soft earth, the hem of her blouse clinging to her skin where sweat had kissed it. The air was thick, warm and lazy, carrying the scent of dry grass and something faintly metallic. She wandered toward an overgrown corner, her steps slow but deliberate, drawn by a pull she couldn’t name. Tangled ivy spilled over the fence, wild and choking, and she paused as her eyes caught on something—a narrow passageway, half-hidden, its frame of old wooden beams bolted with rusted metal jutting out like bones from the earth.
