One of the things I love is to stumble upon a creepy setting unexpectedly. A cleaned bone poking out through a drift of soggy leaves…a leaning house, its stately facade transformed into drooping eyes and a haggard mouth. And this lovely little cherub I saw while visiting St. Augustine, Florida.

Spooky stuff always gets the story gremlins excited:

The stone cherub’s head had been placed in the garden as an afterthought, a half-hearted attempt to salvage its beauty after something unfortunate had happened to its body. But its time in the ground had changed it.

Its open mouth was full of leaves and rainwater, so it gasped, choking. A piece of its cheek had broken, and the fresh stone was striated and pink, as if flesh had been stripped away instead, exposing bone and teeth. The dirt collected in its eyes highlighted them, made one lid deformed and the eye underneath rolled up. Its chin tilted up, as if it were straining to escape.

What had befallen the cherub to make it earthbound, truly bound to the earth? And what had it done?