Wednesday, December 28, 2016


A perfect night for a walk.
The moon is shining.
The stars are twinkling.
The graveyard is dark.
A mist weaves
through the graves.
A cold wind whips past me.
What’s happening?
Figures stand up.
Rising from the graves.
Time to end my walk.
They’ve surrounded me.
How did they move so fast?
They are transparent.
A dark figure stands
behind them.
A figure that isn’t transparent.
With a knife in his hand.
Time to run.
Too late.
A not so perfect night.

No comments:

Post a Comment