Abbie goes for a walk and feels followed. Is it her imagination or is someone following her....?
Abbie heard the patters of feet in the estate she lived in as Trick-or-Treaters roamed the drive in excitement. It was pitch black outside in the cold night apart from the golden yellow lights of the surrounding windows and street lights, and it reminded her of those crazy Egyptian mummy films with the cavern illuminated in flaming torches. The thought seemed rather fitting for the moment, Abbie thought.
She sighed heavily and made her way to the front door. She liked children; part of the reason why she was single was because her desire to have children was not shared by the average cute, twentieth century man in his mid-twenties. But Halloween was made unbearable enough by the insufferable television specials and masses of decoration displayed in shops a month earlier than required without children dressed in white sheets requesting confectionary, so Abbie was, for a change, going for a quiet, boring walk down the town.
Abbie shrugged on her designer double breasted jacket and checked her jet black hair in the mirror adjacent to the door. The chilly evening air washed over her face as she shut and locked the door behind her. The children seemed to be doing the rounds quite close to her house, so she left briskly and strolled down the highstreet.