My dad had this little sing-song he used to sing to my nieces and nephews when they were babies. I don’t recall its origins, but I wish I did. I turned it into a disturbing little poem. The first part is what Dad used to sing; the second part is all me. The weird thing, though, is that I don’t recall writing it. Anyway, I came up with a back story, and wrote this part fiction/part brochure for a fictitious bed and breakfast, and did this colored pencil art. It appeared on the Graveside Press newsletter in October 2024. You can read it at the link below. I have plans to expand the idea into a short story, if not a full length novel.

https://mailchi.mp/1fb20ebaceb0/graveside-press-october-2024