Mildred checked again and pinched herself to make sure she was not dreaming, ' ouch ' definitely not dreaming then. Mildred remembered the old book she had found yesterday in a junk shop, it was a story about clocks and their magical powers. Maybe the book will help me find out what is happening Mildred murmured to her friend and companion Betsy the Jack Russell.
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With Halloween fast approaching, we thought it'd be fun to make up a tall tale of our own to suit the occasion...and then decided that we'd be better off letting you lot loose on it 
So, flex those creative muscles and add a paragraph of your own to our spooky Gransnet ghost story. One paragraph each, and each poster can take the story wherever they like - all you need to do is follow on from the last post. We'll start...
"Mildred (our heroine) was still awake when the clocks struck 12 on Halloween morning. Or, well... They would have done, had they been ticking at all. As she crept around the darkened house, glancing at each set of hands pointing straight up to the ceiling in wicked cahoots, her heart began to squeeze painfully in her chest. Every single clock in the house (and there were many - Mildred was an avid collector) had frozen at midnight."
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