Story with a beginning
"It was a cold evening and I was on my way home from office. As I was late, I was walking quickly. Suddenly I heard footsteps approaching me. Before I could turn, the lights went off and....."....
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Answer:
It was a cold evening and I was on my way home from office. As I was late, I was walking quickly. Suddenly I heard footsteps approaching me. Before I could turn, the lights went off and the shadows were now twice as long as themselves, the air was damp and cool smelling faintly of a car's exhaust fumes, the sun dipped lower in the sky until the trees that lines the lane stood as black statues silhouetted against the darkening sky, slowly their shadows melted away into the blackness of night.
Dusk was falling, the mosquito's were out, goose bumps were on my arms from the evening chill, the green shrubbery now looking almost black, silhouetted, colours muted, as if they had been drained away by an invisible hand, as if the artists' palette had been changed.
Sun sank lower in the sky, light of day draining away, giving way to the velvety dark of night, crickets chirping, dusky, colors subdued in the fading light, first buzz of mosquitoes, street lights click on, day winding down, first star in the night sky, short June darkness, air became cooler, evening landscape, twilight had fallen, the sharp shadow of the lamppost had faded into the dark of the sidewalk, fading light, only the faintest of light shone through the leaves, soon it grew dark, darkening sky, a close silence in the dim evening light.
When others see gloom, I see the world in silver-blues. When they see freezing rain, I see a coldness that brings me to a higher feeling of life, more aware of my internal flame. I see them cast their eyes to the ground, their mouth a full frown, when there is a moon above and stars beyond the canopy of cloud. There is a time for sunshine, and a time for wintry sombre hues. Every dance has pause, every song has silence. And so this time, so soon after the dawn, feels more akin to an old movie, one that builds from these blues to the kind of joy that spreads through mind, body and soul. And so I feel the ground beneath both boots, tilt my head skyward, both rooted in the blessed moment and ready for the spring that beckons.
The gloom of the wintry day crept into me like the damp into bare timber. It seeped into my pores, travelling to my heart which beat more morosely. Even the bird song came to me as if from a deep well rather than high in the trees. Then from under the steady blanket of grey cloud came a steady rain that moved like a mist in chaotic directions but was thick enough to soak an old man's cloth cap and the newspaper under his arm.
Abruptly, a chill rose up my spine making me shiver. Something was here with me and I could feel it. I whipped around. Sounds of hushed whispering seemed to be erupting and spilling from the peeling flower walls. Was I going crazy? This couldn’t be happening. "This isn’t real," I told himself. Yet it felt nothing but real and absolute to me.
A breath so hoarse and so faint echoed around me, coming from the south of the street. I slowly turned my head over my shoulder and the whispering stopped. The air chilled to ice and my laboured breathing became the only sound... it was hanging from the roofs, crawling ever so slowly towards me, dark and brooding.
Creak. Crrk. Creak. Crrk. Crreakk.