In the middle of the night I woke up. It was cold. The window was closed, but I felt a draft. Its August, why is it so cold? Sensing I wasn’t alone, I looked around. The moonlight reflected a smudge in the corner of the room. Dare I ask you to show yourself? I thought. No need, a shadow developed. Did it have wings? Is my story becoming reality or am I falling into my story?
My current story, Dead of July is available on Amazon.