My second attempt at a short story is supposed to encompass the theme "any minute now..." |
The hairs are tingling on the back of my neck. I'm not certain about who, or what, is chasing me, but I do know that I need to continue to run if I am to avoid its deadly consequence. Nearly breathless, I continue to try to escape. I have caught glimpses of his image, only within its ominous shadow, cast briefly by the moon's intermittent availability through the tall buildings. It appears that he walks erect on two legs though his humped back deceives me by suggesting a slouched posture. I am certain that he can move at least as quickly as I do. This is obvious because I have been unable to avoid his continued pursuit. At times he gets so close that I can hear the noise of his labored breathing, almost a muted growl that hums continuously as he exhales. This sound serves me well by re-igniting my passion to avoid a closer confrontation and strengthening the resolve in my over burdened legs. These are the moments in which I gain advantage and am able to lengthen the distance that separates us. In fear, as I find my perseverance waxing, a plan begins to emerge. If I am ever to bring this exploitation to an end, I must meet my pursuer face to face. And if I am to survive, I need to structure this meeting to my best advantage. I search through a nearby dumpster and find a three foot length of pipe, which I perceive will be a formidable weapon. I don't know if my potential opponent is armed, but I intend to be. I am no longer the victim that I was, it is now I who stalks. As I crouch silently in the darkness of the shadows, I know that I will awaken any minute now... |