Crawling

We were crawling.

Crawling through

A tight

Enclosed

Space

The floors echoing

While we moved

As slowly as possible.

“Who are you?”

I ask again.

“Just follow me.

No time for questions.”

Aggravated

With her I say,

“I’m not taking

One more step

Until you tell me.”

But she is silent

And continues

Moving.

“I’m not moving,”

I repeat.

The voice replies,

“Listen,

Would you rather die

Or come with me?”

She has a point,

So I follow.

The End

69 comments about this story Feed