They held hands; young lovers with romance in mind. Squeezing twixt the bent iron pickets they slid past ancient headstones and listened while discordant strains from an unpracticed cello, playing nearby, painted haunting pictures on the fog.
A scream.
A start.
When Addison reached for him, Biff was gone.
“Quit clowning around!”
OH OH – 2nd place
Gracias
tnkerr-Writing Prompts and Practice 
You’ve got yourself quite the silver charm collection going on. Here’s a silver clown to add to it! You need a little bracelet from which to dangle your trophies? 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
I have a string of rawhide I wear around my neck that carries a single tooth from each of my victims. The silver clown will look right at home between Mr. Dickinsons molar and Ms Dillons canine!
Bwahahaha.
LikeLike
bwaahaha indeed. You must be a big hit ’round Newport 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person