The Creeping Ghost Part II

“I’m going where the cold wind blows.” Leadbelly.

The two emerged onto a deserted platform in an all but deserted station in an all but deserted seaside town. This was not the time for seaside towns. In summer, the town thronged with people. Children played, adults laughed, and there would be such a vibrancy of bustling life that stillness seemed implausible. Today was not summer. It was some obscure turning point between seasons, which had not been named. This was not the time for seaside tow...