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  • Writer's pictureCarolyn Steele Agosta

Writing from a prompt...The Darkness of the Night


I tried to look into the darkness of the night, but I guess I should have been listening. Because the Evil was there, right there, behind me. Its dark liquidity couldn’t be seen, not even with moonlight.


I should have heard it breathing.


But no, all my concentration was on the view ahead. I tried so hard to see what was coming, that I couldn’t realize it was already here.


Beside me.


Within me.


Invading my mind.


It crept down my spinal cord. It spread through my limbs. It wrapped its icy fingers around my ribs and then slipped between them to my heart.


And it clutched. And it squeezed. Its icy shards sent me shuddering and quaking. It blinded me. It paralyzed me. It left me too destroyed to even cry out.


Don’t be a fool, I thought. I can fight this. Don’t give up now. This will end and I’ll survive. I can live to fight another day. It hasn’t beaten me yet.


No, the Evil can’t beat me. Not unless Fear does, first.

Coronavirus, Day 12

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