Me
Alone
Late at night
I hear a noise
Is she following?
I feel the clammy cold
The clods from her barren grave
I turn and she is just right there
Vacuous eyes staring coldly at me
Dripping rotting flesh as she approaches
Backing away from her I trip and fall
I see the blood of her last victim
She fills the volume before me
Flesh dripping arm reaches out
She touches my shoulder
Her cold dead finger
“Tag, you are it”
She giggles
I’m it
Hide!

***

This was written for Colleen’s weekly poetry challenge. She gave two key words, Empty and Space, and we needed to use synonyms of those words.  I did a double ethree this week.

**

I Photoshoped a painting for a story I once wrote. This is an iteration of the painting that I did not originally use (I just added it). (I originally did the painting for a portrait class – she is pretty in the original ;).)

***

Late edit – I just added an animation of the original picture…