grace healy
Bio
Trying to save for university so i can become an english professor.
Stories (1/0)
Night Song
Tis dark. Then again that is all I have know my whole life. So why, I ponder, do the other children think it so odd that I do not mind the night, when even the slightest susurrations my large ears catch? Wet moss and slimy wood quickly dampen my jeans, and the cool wisps of mist redden my cheeks into gleeds, but these trifles bother me little; my body, nerves alight and flaming during the sun’s hours, gives way to my keen ears. As the eyes of a city dweller adjust to the night sky, so does my ear to the evening’s song. Soughing trees- whispering, sighing, murmuring - ease the arms that hold an eternally tapping, tapping, tapping cane. Crisp air swells my lungs, and my posture droops as a weary willow.
By grace healy3 years ago in Horror