13 February 2010

On the Borders of Eerie

She found herself walking down a deserted street with dread settling on her like the heavy snow that fell on her hair.  Snow banks too high to see past added to the sense of apprehension.  There was a silence in the air, a palpable sense of eerie nothingness.  No cars, no wind, no color, no one.

Weak light from a cold white sun opened some of the shadows around her, but not enough to dispel their menace.  She moved quietly and slowly, eyes and ears sharply tuned to her surroundings.  The snow continued to fall soundlessly.  She stopped and turned in a circle, taking in a stark white and grayed vista.  Devoid of color, movement, life. Despite the soft snow, everything in her vision was sharp and angled, black trees against a luminosity that hurt the eyes.  Windows in buildings without the warmth of light, hundreds of black holes in which to fall.  She shouted Hello, only to hear not even an echo of her own voice.

Cold crept over her, not from the snow. It came from something else, deeper and more aching than mere weather.  It moved into her bones, to the tips of her fingers and to the very ends of her hair, so cold it almost stopped her breath.  And then she knew.

She was alone.  Not for just the moment or a day, alone forever.  She realized the import of this thought immediately.  She knew that she would never again hear, taste, smell, see anything other than what was in front of her right then.  The weight of that thought brought her to her knees.  She wanted to cry from the pain of it, but there were no tears in the hollows of her frozen body.  She fell down on her back in the street and closed her eyes, willing the snow to fill her mouth and nose, to freeze the last of her warm breath.

As she lay there waiting for the void to take her, she slowly felt her face warming.  And then the heat was moving down her body, like hands bringing life back.  And just as suddenly, the aroma of deep-red roses.  She slowly opened her eyes and found herself on her porch at home, stretched out in a chair, the heat from the white sun making her body fluid and languid.  As she glanced around, her senses were flooded.  A red bird singing on a green branch, white clouds tinged with pink, voices in the distance, sweet flowery perfumes, sun-kissed browned skin.

She rose from her chair and stretched, smiling and at ease.  As she turned to walk into her home, she stopped short.  She felt a small cold spot on her back, as if a needle had been pushed into her skin.  She felt it spreading as she turned her head to look back over her shoulder.  She felt the horror crawling up her spine as her hairs stood on end.....It was still there, still waiting and would seek her out once more.  Her day would come again.  With ice blue eyes, she took one long last look over her shoulder, turned and walked away.  The hot white sun giving one last caress to her back as she moved into the shadows.

[ One word - eerie, given by:  One poet - Lerrnst ]


  1. you, Diana, you are the poet: beautiful eerie story

  2. hauntingly beautiful! was not prepared for the most unusual ending. this one....a masterpiece!!

  3. That was creepy - I'd like to read more of it.


  4. So beautifully "haunting" chill, warmth. The contrasts are amazing...yet...the shadows...wow! Excellent writing!!!! ~April