kit10ish
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Shadow
Ok, this one is my first attempt at horror, or sorta, not sure what it falls under. Anyway, this is the first short chapter.
Chapter 1
Three a.m. The dead of night, no breeze blowing, no traffic on the streets, the evening heat so oppressing that it seemed it was the cause of the eery silence. The only movement came from a young woman holding up the corner lamp post. So thin, she seemed to be the street lamp's shadow. Stringy hair hung damply down her bare back, the light capturing drops of sweat trailing their way down her tired face, dripping down towards the V of her tie dyed halter top. The woman's appearance was more washed out than the blue jean mini skirt that she barely wore. If she had the energy to look in a mirror, she would have smiled inwardly, and would have told herself she looked like a starving artist of love.
Indeed she was both starving, and an artist of sorts. Starving for food, money, and love. And an artist in the field of making love, for it was the only skill she had in which she could ply a trade to generate money so she could survive. Left homeless at the age of thirteen, she slept in dark alleys, panhandled, and dug through garbage bins behind local restaurants, scrounging for a meal. A year later she was befriended by a man twice her age who took her in, fed her, introduced her to her current trade before tossing her back out on the streets to fend for herself. Another year passed and she was still turning tricks. Never having blossomed, inside and out, her clientele was a very short list which barely kept her clothed, fed, and sheltered. She never took drugs, for one thing there wouldn't be enough money to buy any, and she found escape through library books which cost nothing at all.
Wiping the perspiration from her forehead and cleavage, she thought of a relaxing soak in her tub. Glancing around, seeing no one about, she decided to give up for the evening and treat herself to that pleasure. It was definite she would not be making any more money tonight giving pleasure to someone else, so she might as well head on home. Her favorite corner, her place of work, was located quite close to where she lived, which was convenient for her and her minuscule collection of clients. They didn't have to spend money on a cheesy motel room, and she didn't have to worry about some John ripping her off or beating her up. The apartment was small, but it was hers. The rent was cheap, and although it was a hole in the wall, she was able to find bits and pieces at a local Odds-n-Ends shop to create a homey atmosphere.
Next chapter gives more on the 'horror' part of this tale. Question to you is...does this chapter entice you to want to read more? Or is it utterly boring?
Post Edited By kit10ish, Mar/14/2007, 12:58 pm
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Mar/14/2007, 12:48 pm
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