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Perchance to dream.
Nov. 21st, 2010 04:16 amTitle: Perchance to dream.
Author: charisstoma
Word count: 335
Content: Nightmare.Zombie.
Note: Darn you Dibbs. NaZoWriMo. There are better things for me that I should be doing. Like sleeping the sleep of restfulness.( Read more... )
The clerk comes out from behind the locked blank walled office cubical to go peak into the darkness outside. Glass is our separation from the night’s monsters. Inadequate even if the automatic doors could be prevented from inviting in any that venture close.
A lone figure moves, backlit by street and the expanse of hollow parking lot lights. Even as the figure stumbles into one of the cones of harsh light the body’s details are cast in shadow. It moves inexorably forward towards the building and the clerk whimpers. There is no leaving his station. The store must stay open through the remaining night’s hours and he is not allowed to escape. He is the meat of choice.
Outside we load our vehicle quickly. We could not convince the clerk to come with us. The figure stops then turns its stumbling towards us. Rolling closed our windows the van lurches into motion away from the figure that once more progresses towards the entrance. The glass painted now gaily red, hides the food’s screams. Just a dream.
Author: charisstoma
Word count: 335
Content: Nightmare.Zombie.
Note: Darn you Dibbs. NaZoWriMo. There are better things for me that I should be doing. Like sleeping the sleep of restfulness.( Read more... )
The clerk comes out from behind the locked blank walled office cubical to go peak into the darkness outside. Glass is our separation from the night’s monsters. Inadequate even if the automatic doors could be prevented from inviting in any that venture close.
A lone figure moves, backlit by street and the expanse of hollow parking lot lights. Even as the figure stumbles into one of the cones of harsh light the body’s details are cast in shadow. It moves inexorably forward towards the building and the clerk whimpers. There is no leaving his station. The store must stay open through the remaining night’s hours and he is not allowed to escape. He is the meat of choice.
Outside we load our vehicle quickly. We could not convince the clerk to come with us. The figure stops then turns its stumbling towards us. Rolling closed our windows the van lurches into motion away from the figure that once more progresses towards the entrance. The glass painted now gaily red, hides the food’s screams. Just a dream.
