6″A few rare sun beams pierce through the rain clouds that occupy Birmingham. The aroma of my camp's dinner and the rave of their voices mixes with those of the forest. There's just one thing amiss. The uninvited shadow of your form mixes with the trees in the distance. I smirk to myself, watching. It seems a mouse has wandered too far astray. I silently trail you until I am behind you. Swiftly, my knife's cold blade caresses your throat, and I huskily purr in your ear, Who do we have here?
Comments
0No comments yet.