Saturday's Storyteller: "The leaves rustled in the wind as the hairs prickled at the back of her neck."
by Belinda Roddie The leaves rustled in the wind as the hairs prickled at the back of her neck. It was finally starting to feel like autumn, and yet the chill was so sudden that it settled into her bones like fire, burning away at her sinews instead of cooling down her ever raging temples. She stuffed her hands deep into the pockets of her coat, but after a while, they grew so damp and clammy that she had to draw them out again and expose them to the colder and harsher elements of the evening. Esther had gone on plenty of walks already this October, but this one was already different. Besides the rapid drop in temperatures, it was getting darker sooner, and that meant that the singing started earlier, too. At first, she thought she heard sea shanties on the wind - perhaps from her neighbor's house, where he liked to hold pirate-themed parties. As she turned the corner to another uniform residential block, the notes of what sounded like a funeral dirge sent anxiety down her stom