a tiny whisper warning
too late, my vision is blurred
freeing stray spider webbing from my eyelashes
not much to look at anyway
waking up late set her stride in chaotic motion. running out the door a cool breeze brushed her face, a gray mist hung in the air. passing by the leafy foliage an unexpected interlude transpired. open eyes met silky thread. temporary blackness ensued.
so sorry little spider
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- (ghost)
- stories told through an alter ego and a hidden persona
{ dracula in training }
{ frankenstein in waiting }
{ ghost as an understudy }
writing as theatre to invoke a spirit of playful spookiness, because the supernatural need therapy just as much as the living.
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