Laura Hanson Reber
Bio
Cultivating Transformative Experiences through Art, Writing, Travel and Hospitality.
Stories (8)
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The Old Brownstone Door
There was only one rule: don’t open the door. Not like they could. The doorknob was welded shut; the key was broken off in the deadbolt; and a slide latch was secured with a rusty padlock. As far as Sarah knew, nobody had been to the basement for four generations, not since her great granddaddy died in a distillery explosion under the house in the steam plant tunnels.
By Laura Hanson Reberabout a year ago in Horror
When in Rome
The sudden discomfort of the park bench elicits more surprise than pain, but I cry out just the same shooting up from my anticipated resting spot. Jet-lagged and museum-weary I had neglected to look down. A small black Moleskine notebook with a gold fountain pen clipped to the cover now seems obvious. I look around for the owner. Most of the visitors have left, although a few remain on the benches bordering the tidy square that fronts the Borghese Galleries. The pathway leading into the wildly expansive public gardens is vacant. Rotating full circle, I see children lobbing acorns at protesting parakeets; a dog leaving a fresh lawn sculpture as its person chats obliviously on their phone; and a priest strolling in from the street, stopping to light a cigarette. For a moment he appears to be watching me, yet he looks away as our eyes meet.
By Laura Hanson Reber5 years ago in Wander
