“The Photographer’s Tale” a Ghostly Story by Daniel Mills

One of my favorite new writers…

The Sanguine Woods


‘I heard this story from a passing acquaintance, a fellow photographer whom I shall call Lowell. I met Lowell in June of last year at a mountaintop resort in New Hampshire. I had traveled there for my health and was surprised to meet another who shared my profession. The two of us struck up a conversation one evening after supper as we took cigars on the veranda—two old men alone with the wild hills before us. Photographic technique was the object of our discussion, and as I recall, we argued back and forth for some time regarding the utility of the new flash lamp. “I’m not denying that it might be useful,” Lowell conceded. His haggard features were visible only by the pale orange tip of his cigar. “But only up to a point. There are places—interiors, I mean—corners so dark they cannot be lighted.” I shook my head. “I’m…

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