occoquan1's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- In which the witch walks a dark, lonely path Night. Black. Hot. Humid. A scream outside...shrill. Did she see a bug, a bat, a baseball bat? Did someone she love give her a fright? Or did someone she didn't know give her worse? I didn't look. Did someone else bother to? Midnight closing in. Early October. The trees outside are still green. The mask the season of death that sits and waits outside. The shroud is parting, slowly at first, but more every day. Can you feel that? Feel the watchful eyes in the night peering at you hungrily from the dark? There is darkness everywhere, and though I write about the dark, I strive to live in the light. I dwell in darkness, but I am not of darkness. Blessings, Salem 11:43 p.m. - 10-05-05 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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