I am no dog with mange.
An alien I am not.
I roam over a wide range.
How many goats have you got?
Blood I love to drink.
Few see me come or go.
A goat is the right size, I think.
It is the best meal I know.
Those who catch a glimpse of me,
one thing they all said,
I was a short little thing,
with eyes that glowed red.
Running down my back
a row of sharp spikes.
They say I was lizard-like
with teeth so pearly white.
I’ll leave a carcass behind,
and you’ll ask, “What happened here?”
A mystery for your mind,
that fills your heart with fear.
About the Creator
Mark Stigers
One year after my birth sputnik was launched, making me a space child. I did a hitch in the Navy as a electronics tech. I worked for Hughes Aircraft Company for quite a while. I currently live in the Saguaro forest in Tucson Arizona
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also become a paid subscriber, letting them know you appreciate their work.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.