Written for the Supernatural Writing Contest |
I ate a miniature quiche And walked around the crowded place, It was a fancy party; a niche For the rich, not the poor: my case I drank many flutes of champagne People talking overlooking a bay, Buffet tables aligned like a train This is not me, should I walk away? I wasn't bad, just a flirt I liked young men and hunted them I searched for names like Ben and Bert They were calm, like blue stem I thought my Jimmy Choo knockoffs hurt And my head drifted, was I dizzy? I do remember dancing with sweet looking Burt So why was my voice sounding so fizzy? A narrow staircase down the hall A dark force grabbed my body, I steadied myself against the wall I saw him, he looked so gaudy His red eyes down on mine Made me think of hell and fire, I knew then it was a bad sign I swear, I am not a liar I awoke at the bottom of a lake My poor dress, floating up white laces, It's a pity, I didn't have a piece of his cake All I see now are twisted faces An orange moon shining upon me Disembodied, I left as clouds of vapor Then, horrified, I tried to flee Because an eerie voice said: Hello Ms Caper. Word count: 222 |