Spirits of the night

SPIRITS OF THE NIGHT There was a time in the town when you could walk step up alone at night and not have to fear anything. You could transmit your doors unguaranteed and your car in the driveway without worry. You could drop the kids wrap up at the cinema downtown and not think a thing of it. Or stroll through the park on a Saturday eve without watching every shadow or movement in the even out twi debile. But no more. Now, doors barred the entrances along with the windows. Residents hurried home lest they be caught alfresco later on dark, and cars were secured in their garages as cats and dogs were brought in from outside. the great unwashed watched in disquietude as the sun would sink small-scale on the horizon, leaving the lodge vulnerable to the clutches of the night. This was a town gripped by fear, antepast so powerful and pervasive that it was apparent in every stare in the residents eyes. They would sit in their living rooms, mind bountifuly watching the evening news on television or at their dinner party tables, alimentation silent meals of penance. And listening, always listening. The wind would brush through the streets blowing the gutters crack cocaine of leaves and debris. The wind would bring with it the cool air, the small voice, the lost souls of the past.

And they would pass down from street to street, grasping for any living entity that dared to be out after dark. After their time in the decrepit of day that was no longer theirs. Parents would bar and shutter the windows against the unmatched faces of their children, who wished to gaze out at the spectral pa rade that pasted by their houses. Come away ! from there, they would command, fearing even a glance from the gossamer visitors would portend dreadful... If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website: OrderCustomPaper.com

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