To say here is far, and to call yonder nearby. Stories on the edge of the every day, strange tales you may or may not be moved by. Strange, curious, fantastic stories told by me, you, him and her. There are many stories but they’re all concluded within a single page, each story around 200 to 1200 characters in length, a short story collection you can easily read. Please enjoy them. Updated every Saturday at 6pm.
My friend heard this story from a brave woodsman.
He went into the mountains alone one night and set up his tent to sleep. Before long, he heard the sounds of several people walking nearby. They didn’t sound like the footsteps of mountain hiking boots; they were bare feet. On and on, they kept circling around the tent.
‘…Ah. These aren’t the footsteps of the living,’ he thought.
Even so, they didn’t appear to be making any moves to enter the tent. He decided to ignore them, hung his knife around his neck as always, and went to sleep.
As he folded up his tent the next morning, he noticed a single shoe underneath it. He didn’t notice it when he was setting his tent up, but it was a single, banged up hiking shoe. The sound of bare footsteps the night before must have been looking for it.
He debated what to do, but in the end decided to leave it where it was. He probably should have taken it back and held a service, but if they came down the mountain looking for it, well, that would have been a bit of a bother.