This tale has now been recorded. Let me read it to you below.

THE WITCH’S HOUSE.

The house was just part of the street. It had been falling down forever. No one ever took any notice of it. No one had ever seen the woman who lived there. Though the neighbourhood kids used to sneak up to the back door for dares. No one knew her name, they called her witch. And they called her place the Chicken House. No one knew why. There hadn’t been chickens there that anyone could remember. Maybe because the kids played chicken, hoping to see her. The shed was the first to fold over, a few years ago. Still no one looked. A storm had been brewing all day when the house fell over, but there was not a drop of rain.

LUXVILLE TALES with TALE BY Erin McCuskey and IMAGE BY Erin McCuskey. Follow her @cityofluxville

ATTN: The #LuxvilleTales are usually generated from reader contributed images. Post me a pic of faded glory and I will write you a short tale. My most fave pic taker will be gifted the ‘Luxville Dolls’ book, due February 2016. Tag it #Luxville & #LuxvilleTales and tag me too! Love Madame Yum