Brittle

The man walked into the dirty puddle, the crater that I had made when falling from the storm which seemed to have fled. It left behind the thousand eyes of the night to watch the play of my pains. With the grin slowly disappearing from the now silhouetted features of the man’s face, he extended his hand from his black coat and spoke with a crackling deep voice

“Welcome to the world of the living, pleased to meet you newcomer, don’t be afraid of what you don’t understand, otherwise this will be a very short stay”

 I raised my right hand , buried underneath the black cloak. As it emergeed from the lengthy drape I saw it, a white skeletal hand of brittle bones. In a panic I pulled my hand back, hiding it with my other. “What is this? Where am I? Is this some kind of nightmare?” Screaming and backing away these words escaped from the dark hood of the cloak. The man tilted his head.

“You didn’t hear what I just said did you?”.

Calming down I notice the pointlessness of my panic.

The man turned around “Come, let’s take a walk and leave this place. I have a lot to tell you.”

Reluctantly I made my way through the maze of damaged wood, stained with the dark reminders of flame.

The End

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