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Being followed.
Member rating: No Rating | Words: | Submitted: Mon Oct 27 2003
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Being followed. All I could see was dark clouds, covering what little source of light there was from the glimmering pearl white moon. Music still ringing in my head, like the loud blaring disco speakers that I left behind. All around me I was surrounded by total silence. The pavements full of hazy streetlamps. The blustery wind blowing on my dry, almost straw like hair. As I reached out into the icy frost air it transformed my hand into a cold blue. The artic like chill running through my body on this frosty winters night. Further and further into the murky cobbled road I walked. As I turned another corner, which seemed to lead me away from what feeling of sleeping people there was around me. Into the deserted, grimy, desolate alley. When suddenly all I could hear was a loud, almost alarming wailing cry. I covered my ears and wished...
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