Showing posts with label hooded. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hooded. Show all posts

Monday, August 15, 2016

ON MY SHELF





Who sits on my shelf
each and every night?
Who casts long shadows
on my shelf and wall?
Not there at day
but only at night.
I move closer.
I must see what it is.
A hooded figure,
its face lifting to me.
The hood falls back
to a face as dark as night.
Eyes shine red,
burning a hole right through me.

Source:

Sunday, September 13, 2015

OUR GAMES HAVE JUST BEGUN --- THE DEAD GAME --- PART 33



The growling follows us outside
Down the rickety stairs to the beach.
Laughter mixes in the howling wind,
Hot breath swirling around our necks.

Shadows fly at us on gossamer wings,
Tracking out halting journey downward.
Darkness hides the beach below,
Sandy cushions awaiting our final fall.

I fly with the wind to land on pillows,
Shaking their pixie dust into my eyes.
I leave Mike and David on the stairs
As I race down the deserted walkway.

Moans mix with the laughing wind
As prayers for help fill my troubled mind.
Hope finally triumphs over despair,
Pushing me forward to my journey's end.

A shove has me thrown into the park,
Where a noose waits for my neck.
Hooded creatures circle the gazebo,
An appropriate place for my last stand.

Our games have just begun.

THE DEAD GAME










Tuesday, March 11, 2014

THE DEAD GAME -- DAY 90






































     Father John must be in his late fifties, guessed Linda, but he appeared very strong and rugged-looking for a man his age. He also seemed to be troubled. His eyes darted around as if he expected to be overheard by someone, even though the church was empty and quiet.
     After Linda finished with her story, the Father began his. “I’ve always believed that there was something wrong with this town. I’ve sensed the evil brewing beneath the surface all these years, getting ready to explode at any moment. The older residents are very reclusive during the day. Twice a year, a huge party is thrown at Diane’s house. These parties are given at night—just like all their other activities. Secret meetings at their homes take place only in the dead of night. They never attend church, but seem to hide indoors during the day.
     “I’ve remained living here only because I’ve wanted to keep a vigilant watch over the town and its strange inhabitants. Every year, a tourist disappears and very little is mentioned about it in the town paper or by the townspeople. Sheriff Sam makes an effort to investigate the disappearances, but nothing is ever solved.”
     “Do you believe that the ones responsible are human?” Shana asked. Linda knew that Shana had strange premonitions about the town: her cards had always pointed to some kind of supernatural being.
     “Over the years, I’ve asked myself that same question many times. Once I even tried to pursue this inquiry. A few years ago, I decided to follow the line of limousines to one of Diane’s secret parties. I climbed a tree in the dark and peeked into one of her upstairs windows. In a very dark room, men and women were sitting around a long table, dressed in long black robes with hoods covering their heads and faces. It appeared as if they were waiting for someone to arrive and occupy the empty seat at the head of the table.
     “The door swung open, and in walked Charles Wolf, who sat in the large empty chair. He was also wearing a long black robe, but his hood was back. He glared out the window—right at the spot where I was hiding. Afraid that I’d been spotted, I quickly fled the scene. I’ve never returned to the hill nor spoken to anyone about what I saw or thought I saw.”