Saturday, December 12, 2015

What's that sound?



Is it a damp December wind threading through the palindrome trees; once-green limbs now like roots attempting to take hold in the wan winter sky? Perhaps it's a late evening fog, tickling the belfry points on a cemetery fence! The brittle papyrus crackle of dead leaves pulled across an empty street! The scuttle of mice, pressing themselves into dry, dust-scented attics, seeking refuge in some warm, shadow-obscured corner!

No! It is none of these things! It is merely the faintest of sounds–a dry, dismal vocal emanation so weak as to be interpreted as perhaps a secret shared by a secret!

It is: THE WHISPERING SKULL!

More nonsense soon.

No comments:

Post a Comment