Daily Prompt; Fright Night


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What’s the thing you’re most scared to do? What would it take to get you to do it?

Photographers, artists, poets: show us FRIGHTENING.

With using my mind and not my subconcience I am admitting I am afraid of a few things in life.

1. Darkness, I hate being in the dark. Walking outside in the dark. The unknown of the dark. Who is lurking around out doors at night? My imagination can run wild. I prefer to stay inside once I can’t see light anymore. I prefer to not have to get out of bed once I turn the lights out.grey trees

2. Heights, I hate heights. Anytime I stand on a chair or a ladder, my legs turn to jello. My feet become cemented to the surface. My whole body becomes a dance of wiggles and shakes. I guess the fear is of falling. What else could it be?ladder

3 and lastly, spiders. Anything that crawls that has two or more legs, is shorter than me and quicker than me sends shivers down my spine. Forces me to race for the broom, mop, fly swatter, anything I can defend myself with.

I figure I am afraid of it getting me. Will it bite me and hurt me? Will its sting be fatal? What a baby I am. Something so tiny compared to my height and yet I go running for the hills.

cookie, spiderChatteringTeethspiders_4aFrogsgreen bug 3ratscared_facescared womanspider

My Inner Fear


darknessDarkness rising

Fear incising

Legs quiver

Fingers shiver

Heart is racing

Feet are pacing

I stand below

I want to show

That I do not fear

As I walk near

The majestic doom

The darkened rooms

The eyes that see

Deep within me

I swallow hard

My body on guard

I take one step

And catch my breath

Then another one

And soon become

Ready to hit

Scared like shit

But I must face

This awful place

Where fear doth live

So life can give

Me inner peace

And fears will cease.

Written by,

Terry Shepherd

10/21/2013

Picture it & Write, Blind Sight Edition


the moon

 

 

 

 

 

 

http://ermiliablog.wordpress.com

The moon was bright as he made his way out into the dark streets. The lamp posts joined with the moon gave enough light to see where he stepped.

Dressed in dark clothing he walked towards one lighted post. Standing under it giving off a soft glow he waited. I peeked out my bedroom window to gaze at the stars. Dressed in my nightgown shivers rippled down my spine as I spotted the night walker.

My eyes fixated on him, drying out from lack of blinking I wondered if he could see me too. I pulled my collar closer around my neck and pulled my vanity chair closer to the window. As if I was sneaking around I sat down trying to be so motionless, less I catch his eyes looking in my direction.

The stranger paced back and forth. His stride taking in the specks of glass on the sidewalk  reflecting from the light. He stopped and turned. Did he see me? He pulled his wide-brimmed hat down towards his chin. Maybe he was getting chilled as I was.

The game of mouse to see who would catch who first. He turned and looked. He was looking in my direction. Oh my God, has he seen me staring at him without permission?  I froze in my seat. I breathed when forced. He quickly looked a way and I breathed slowly out.

He glanced up and down the streets and then moved a way from the light and out of my view. I leaned over to my vanity and took a cigarette out of the gold holder. My hands shook as I tried to light it. I inhaled deeply hoping that the drug would bring a peace over my trembling body.

I put the butt out in the ash tray and started to stand to pull the blinds shut when I caught a glimpse from the corner of my eye. My God, he is back. Cemented to my chair I didn’t move. My eyes couldn’t do anything but blink. Fluttering and causing my eyes to water. I squeezed them tight trying to wash a way the fear.

I saw two lovers holding hands on the opposite corner from him. He made no motion to approach them as they stopped to embrace each other. They continued their walk and I saw the black shadow take something out of his shirt pocket. A dim light proved to me that he was a smoker.

What is he doing? I can see him pulling something else out of his coat pocket. Is he going to try to hurt me? Is he angry because I have been spying into his private life?  I lean down a little as to hide my body but unable to take my eyes a way from him. I know my shadow still reflects in his view.

I see him take the item and place it to his ear. He is talking on a cell phone. My God woman, you are losing your mind. You have let the shadows over take your mind. The eerie moon with the deformed shadows have spooked you. .

Just because he reminds you of the story long ago about the headless horseman doesn’t give you permission to flip out now.  I watch him still unable to move. I see another form walking up the street.She is coming his way.

I suck in my breath waiting to see what he will do as the stranger comes closer. She approaches him on the same side of the street. Watch out lady. He is up to no good. Cross the street lady. Get on the other side. Better yet, turn the other way and run for your life.

She comes closer and he is standing still watching her every move. Closer she gets. My breathing has stopped.  I watch my hands glued to the edge of my seat. She is there. She is standing in front of him.

The two bodies are facing each other. The moon gives off a bright glimmer that surrounds the two standing so close. She takes his hat off and drops it to the ground. He wraps his coat around her and her body disappears. In one motion he lifts her body so that her feet are surrounded by air. His coat drops to the ground and he twirls her around three times.

He stands her gently on hard ground and bends into her kissing her lips for what seems to be forever. The two become separate. She gives him his hat and he slips his coat on. They lock hands and the two start walking a way. He turns back as if he has forgotten something. He looks up at my window and waves and then the two continue their journey.

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Picture It And Write It, June 17,2012, Writing Exercise


http://ermiliablog.wordpress.com/

Waiting, wishing, wanting. This was what was on his mind. Tongue hanging out, with drool spilling from the tip. He was hungry. Softly walking the perimeters, looking front and behind, to see if anyone or anything was following him. He was tired and he didn’t feel like fighting for his meal.

The season had been a hard one for him. Food was low. No one was leaving any food out, making meal time a bit easier to latch on to. There was nothing in the trash bins, but paper and cans and some plastics.

He sat himself under an oak tree, and with ears perked up, listening for intruders, he cleaned himself. There was more dirt where he traveled than grass. Without much rain, even his own prints could be seen in the dust.

He used to consider himself an outstanding creature, but as he bathed, he could feel his bones. His fat that he usually carried was disappearing.

Stopping, listening, he heard a sound. Sitting up straight he sat very still. His green eyes were scanning the darkness, trying to hone in on what was out here. His nose wiggled as he began sniffing for familiar smells. There it was again, not far in the distance. He got on all fours and began to make his way, edging closer to the sound. His mouth began to water, as he could envision, his next meal. His belly almost touching the ground, his green radars had caught the target.

Crawling closer and closer, he was inches from his prey. He licked his lips, and crouched in his attack position. He waited for one second, then pounced, placing both front legs over his prey. Nothing, he had missed.

His eyes quickly found his trophy and moved the few feet, and crouching once again, make his move. His body covered it. He could feel it trying to escape under his belly. There was a fight between the two. He was not giving up. He quickly moved to the side, while using his foot to hold his victim. With one foot holding his meal, he reached down with his white fangs and bit into fur.

He started shaking his head back and forth wearing down his prey. He let it drop and bit into it once again, and he could feel the body becoming limp. He dropped it from his mouth and batted it silly with his front legs, until it moved no more. Dead, lifeless, victory, a meal.

He picked it up once again and took it to the back porch and tossed it down. He looked briefly around, and no one was present, and then sat down to feast on his mouse.

Thank you Ermilia for allowing me this chance to write for Picture It And Write It.