The sun rose, hot and plump, over the Gobi Desert- painting the baron stretches of sand with a frenzy of hellfire red, pottish terracotta and various hues of fruitish orange/tangerine.
That, however, has nothing to do with this story.
This story is about Denny: a spooky, spooky ghost.
He was spooky. And when I say spooky I mean REAL spooky.
The end.
