The four tales

 On this dark, silent night. The streetlights are flickering and the roads are empty. The security detail has fallen asleep in his post, and the night dwellers by the canal are quiet and watchful. The fields are empty save for the slightest whisper of a wind weaving through the sinister canopy of looming shadows. Darkened windows on the flats look like demons eyes, soulless and fearlessly peering into the street. With the grand exception of a bright, dreary window. 


Dear reader, you may find yourself lying in bed with a glass of wine, or perhaps on the couch by the window with your favorite chai tea. Or maybe you've just gotten off the phone with your lover, and you're still riding the vestiges of tingling sensation you get only when you're chatting with said loved one. Before you turn off the last light, let me regale you with a few tales of brood, sin, destruction and salvation. Four tales I will weave, and four tales you will receive. No more, no less. And when I'm done, perhaps you will fall into a dreamless sleep. Or you might find yourself treacherously awake, wondering the halls at night, kept up by foreign thoughts that threaten to puncture a hole straight through your shuddering shell. 

Published on
6/5/19 6:39 PM

I know.. I'm waiting for the other two as well

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