SearchingforGhosts

Once upon a time, in an Old Dutch brewery, came upon an aged man of his late sixties. His beard was grown down to his neck with an odd black glow, he wore a simple farmer attire and carried an old guitar that had no strings. He gingerly placed himself in an old wooden chair that had circled the birch table. The customers stared curiously at the Farmer, who smiled at nothing in particular and watched the people of old sit by them. "Hello stranger, what brings you to the Maple Guzzler this afternoon?" A young Western man asked. "I only came here to spin a yarn or two. Perhaps even warn you. I mean who wants... her to come to their doorstep?"