Out the door, across the grass, unlatch the gate. Down the path as the light dies, into the woods as the trees bristle, deeper and deeper, further away.
"Where are you?"
Listen carefully, taste the air, peer into the spreading grey as the color leaks out of the world. Pull out the flashlight, flip the switch on, shake it awake. Paint over shadows with the flickering beam.
"I'm here, I'm ready…"
Familiar voices, furtive, faint. Familiar faces smile, chins glowing, lit from underneath. Huddle, whisper, giggle. Conspire in whispers, plot, execute.
Peel off day-clothes and dive into the flooding night.
I should pretty much just send Ray Bradbury's estate a check for this one. ;-)
ReplyDeleteI stand in awe.
ReplyDeleteThanks! :-)
DeleteExpertly crafted. Ray would be proud.
ReplyDeleteVery kind :-))
DeleteThere is a term for literary device "Huddle, whisper, giggle." but I can't think of it. Anyway very good use of it whatever its called. Sorry I don't get the Bradbury Reference but I've not read him so. Very effctive writing in 100 words.
ReplyDeleteIt's not really a reference so much as I just realized I was completely copping what I call his 'literary magical realism' style. :-)
DeleteFelt like I was holding a flashlight myself and shaking it to work as I read this!
ReplyDeleteThanks! I was hoping people would get what I meant with the shaking it bit. Glad it's not just me. ;-)
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