Friday, April 19, 2024

What is hunting me?

 






What is hunting me?



They come at night.

Thousands and thousands of tiny question marks.

I can see their beady eyes in the dark.

They swarm by the lamp-post.

They flap their wings.

They shriek at me in a cacophony of voices.

They circle around me faster and faster.

Then they start flinging their questions at me.




NaPoWriMo Day 19





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