Recently, while combing through my old works and old notes I found the printed version of a short story I thought lost to the garbage heap. It's a neat compact little tale of horror about a fur trapper in 1870's Vermont who finds himself in a bit of trouble wit ha lost company of Revolutionary soldiers. It's the one known surviving copy of it. It's not on any of my old hard disks, drives or storage.
It is really old (15+ years) and my writing needs to be punched up, but it was a wonderful feeling finding a manuscript I really did think was gone forever. It's fun because enough time has passed where it feels like I'm reading someone else's work. I will likely square it up over the next year and release it in next year's horror compendium.