Sunday Scribblings: The Night

Inspired by the television show, "The Night Stalker." The old one. With Darren McGavin.

It starts well before the last rays of the sun sputter and die on the western horizon. Hot breath, putrid with the sickly-sweet stench of death.
Those breaths quicken, ribs pop, the chest expands. Toenails to claws, silky hairs to fur.
I am a changling. The dusk signals my time.
Free to stalk, feed. Your flesh, so sweet, fat-rich.
I am the shadow you feel, gooseflesh on backs of necks.
And I hunger.
I am death.
I am the night.


gautami tripathy said...

Very well put...


Anonymous said...

Wow. Very nice.

Ms Afropolitan said...

wow, what an interesting piece..reads so well, and almost sent a shudder down my spine ;)