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Tuesday, August 10, 2010

The Cold Talons Of The Night

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The world takes shape around us as the day grows out from the dawn, chasing the dark away into the shadows, leaving it to lurk behind trees and buildings, waiting for the day to take its leave. We are not creatures of the night-time, no matter how much we like to pretend otherwise, when people huddle up against each other in towns and cities they try to banish the night with light and noise. However, there is always that fear that the night awaits to unleash its monsters down those dark alleyways and in those haunted places that lie out of the reach of the spilling light.

We know now, and we should have grown out of those fears that haunt the dark places of our minds. Still, though, even now we can hear rustlings and the rumbling growls that hide inside even the darkest corners of our own familiar places when the night has taken our light away.

Once the night has gone though, we wonder what it was that held us, that reached out of the shadows with such cold talons to grasp us tight, so that all thought of escape fell away uselessly.

We do not want to turn to face the darkness; we do not want to step towards it, scared that the face we see on that monster stepping out of the shadows will be our own.

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