Hunt: to pursue with intent to capture.
It begins with the story hunting me. I ignore it. I don’t like it. I resist it. I try to forget it. Then I relinquish. I peek around the corner to see if this story is legit or a figment trying to distract me. When I stare it in the face, I see the taunting eyes prompting me to follow—catch this story if I can. Then the roles reverse. I become the hunter.
Haunt: to appear habitually, stay around, persist.
To say I’m pursued by the story—understatement. I hear the whisper when I’m driving, when I’m running, when sleep calls and I can’t come. The day I turn on my computer and write the first word—that is the day I join hands with the story. It no longer haunts me—rather a journey begins where together, we haunt you.