What Lurks...?

Sometimes when I go to a different place, I can sense an eerie strangeness there, especially if it's in an Alley. My feet are not tired, so I take a chance, I walk through the anonymous concrete walk. I spot the long rows of walls on both sides,high above me, mostly all of brick, some of different texture different grade of brick and sometimes mortar, dark grey and dull in between; some smooth to the touch, some rigged; some are graffitti stoney surfaces, seeming empty. Windows are hollowed out eyes, forboding and central to the viewer. Quietly staring back as you trasp through. Going. The air, not hot, hits my face, not hard, soothing like. I guess bearable to go on. Running away, scantily like silky discarded rags, rats, scurrying along to there cubby holes to infest on unbeggotten food. Alley cats sit quietly watching their prey, finding their nest, to seek and not hide. Waiting to capture.

I can see in the far distance smoke from the chimney, one. From there I may not be alone, but how do I know? The awkward Alley feels as if its never been walked through, it appears that way, but somehow I know I'm not alone. There in the far distance a shadow lurks. With my curiousity, I enter. I continue to walk through the dampy dullness of the environment that surrounds me. We, that's the Alley and I, have become one. With my history, I feel, I can hide here and never let anyone see my secrets, maybe haunting imaginings. I'm kept here--it invites me. Inticing me to continue on my journey through this Alley. To all that enters: The Alley of Fear, I presume. Inviting me to stay and so I do. We make friends the Alley and I, and from there a book.

Be sure to pick up a copy of the Homeless Drifter's Night Tales. I'm also working on another bookseries called Shelter Tales( as you see above); hopefully it will be available this year as well. Good Home Night.