The Weathervane on Ashworth Hill

In the autumn of 2017, I spent a week house-sitting for my aunt in the small town of Millington, New York. The property sat at the top of Ashworth Hill, a long gravel drive that curved through a stand of old maples. The house itself was unremarkable—white clapboard, blue shutters, a screened porch that groaned in the wind. But at the peak of the roof, there was a copper weathervane shaped like a rooster. It had been there as long as anyone could remember, and no one thought much of it. Until the night I noticed the rooster was always facing my bedroom window, no matter which way the wind blew. I tried to ignore it. I told myself it was a trick of the light, a loose pivot, a gust that kept it turned my way. But the weathervane didn't just point—it watched. And when the wind died completely, and the rooster still creaked around to follow me, I began to understand that some things are not made to measure the wind. They are made to measure us. This is the story of that week, and what I saw from the window on the last night. #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #BoundInBlack #Weathervane #AshworthHill #MillingtonNewYork #CopperRooster #HouseSitting #AutumnHorror #SmallTown #OldFarmhouse #Watched #RoosterAtNight #Windless #CreakingMetal #BedroomWindow #CountryHorror #LunaReads Keep every episode free: buymeacoffee.com/fexingo