Camelot West Virginia: A Magical Mountain Mystery

by Cyn Mackley

chili slaw dog.

It’s: sauce not chili

It chimed the melody of West Virginia U’s fight song.

Gallagher, nineteen and WVU-bound in the fall,

It’s HIPAA

“Squirrels,” Okney said. “He makes little outfits for squirrels. Specializes in Civil War historical scenes. Uniforms, hoop skirts. Makes tiny little weapons.”

I want one!

“Whimisical taxidermy,” Misty said. “He’s one some major awards.” She wrinkled up her nose. “Once upon a time I lived in Manhattan. Now I know everything there is to know about whimsical taxidermy.”

Gallagher had required a year of a special remedial program offered by Moneton Community College to meet the admission requirements for WVU.

As a WVU graduate, I know for a fact they let in pretty much anyone with a pulse. The boy must have be D-U-M-B.

That is not West Virginia talk. We use y’all.

“That was AH-MAZ-IN!” Gallagher squealed in delight. “Shoot something else!”

“The veil between this world and… other places, it’s pretty thin in West Virginia. Even more so near Camelot.” “Of course, it’s thin. It’s a veil,” Misty said. “Apparently, we aren’t separated from faerie land and the afterlife by a nice, thick wool scarf.”