Zeph's House

Pull the door shut behind you.

Name's Zeph. I spent the better part of fifty years driving the back roads of this country, and everywhere I stopped, a diner at 3 a.m., a stranger's driveway I broke down in, a bar at the end of a gravel road, somebody had a story. The kind you only tell late, to a man who's leaving in the morning. I wrote them down. I went back to the places. Some of them I've since had cause to believe.

Now I'm old and off the road, so I tell them here, the way they were told to me. A new tale every week. Some are true. Some are true-ish. One or two aren't finished yet.

Got one of your own? Leave it at zephshouse.com, the good ones, I'll tell.

Some stories are older than memory.