Saturday's Storyteller: "It began first with darkness; then came the screams."
by Belinda Roddie
It began first with darkness; then came the screams. They tore open the air like the skin's thin, fragile seams. The spirits started dancing, and the ghouls enjoyed their prancing. And all of them convened to infiltrate the children's dreams.
The children first would whimper; then finally, they would howl. They'd try to tear themselves away from nightmares' shrouding cowl. But it held firm across their eyes, imbibing them with ghosts and lies. Their sheets would tightly draw about their gaping maws.
The children dreamed that they were within a never ending pit. They'd dream of drinking potions mixed with werewolves' grime and spit. They'd cry out for their mothers, their sisters and their brothers. But they were all asleep, locked in Morpheus's keep.
The darkness was unyielding; the darkness held its grip. It kissed October's weeping brow and then straight on its lips. It made itself at home where the undead always roamed. It took in screams like sips while it basked in the eclipse.
And Halloween is coming, and soon it will be here. It won't be cute or fun; instead, it revels in your fear. It haunts the children's visions and warps all grown-ups' decisions. So keep a focused ear this freaky time of year.
This week's prompt was provided by Alex Telander.
It began first with darkness; then came the screams. They tore open the air like the skin's thin, fragile seams. The spirits started dancing, and the ghouls enjoyed their prancing. And all of them convened to infiltrate the children's dreams.
The children first would whimper; then finally, they would howl. They'd try to tear themselves away from nightmares' shrouding cowl. But it held firm across their eyes, imbibing them with ghosts and lies. Their sheets would tightly draw about their gaping maws.
The children dreamed that they were within a never ending pit. They'd dream of drinking potions mixed with werewolves' grime and spit. They'd cry out for their mothers, their sisters and their brothers. But they were all asleep, locked in Morpheus's keep.
The darkness was unyielding; the darkness held its grip. It kissed October's weeping brow and then straight on its lips. It made itself at home where the undead always roamed. It took in screams like sips while it basked in the eclipse.
And Halloween is coming, and soon it will be here. It won't be cute or fun; instead, it revels in your fear. It haunts the children's visions and warps all grown-ups' decisions. So keep a focused ear this freaky time of year.
This week's prompt was provided by Alex Telander.
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