I don’t scare easily, but old cemeteries have a way of testing that. It started with a dare from a friend who swore Georgia hides burial grounds that feel wrong after dark.
I laughed it off until I stood alone at one, watching fog curl around headstones older than my grandparents. The air felt thicker there, like the ground remembered things I didn’t want to know.
A crow called out and I nearly dropped my camera. Since that night I’ve gone looking for more, dragging along anyone brave enough to join me…