by Lucy Barker I watch you enter. Sunlight penetrates the stained-glass, suffusing your pale cheek. Once, from that pulpit, the Reverend Swales preached forgiveness, his gimlet eyes resting upon me; the sinner of his flock. I reach out. I have come too close. Startled, you flee towards the headstones encircling those weathered walls. My empty, unmarked grave lies beyond; above the wind-buffeted waves raging far below. He waits for you by the lych gate. With venomous whispers I bid you not to go. Convinced it is merely the rustling of trees, you rush inexorably towards him; oblivious of my pursuing shadow. * * * Lucy is a retired tutor living on the beautiful South Coast of England, which inspires much of her work. For some strange reason she is fascinated by the eerie and macabre, but that’s another story!
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