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The house is dark.
I guess I forgot
To leave a light on
Again.
My hands are full
And I fumble
For the lock
Twisting my body
To insert the key
And turn it.
Kicking the door
With my foot
Gives me time
To rush inside
Into the dark.
I turn the lights
In the entryway
To daytime brightness.
The hall mirror
Reminds me
That I am old
And tired.
And not alone.
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| Writing Prompt |
The challenge is to write a poem that contains some form of horror or thriller. No more than 100 words. |
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Beck Fenton
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Beck Fenton
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