Clocks tock
past
twelve. Scant rattle
of orange
Heartbeat
through bare branches.
Footsteps
Wind wheedles,
curls cold
Heartbeat
down your collar. Breaths catch
and rasp at the back
Footsteps
of your throat. Thud and quick.
Empty road echoes.
FootstepsHeartbeatFootsteps
Hot breath.
Icy grip.
Footsteps
~~~~
When she’s not wielding wild words or swilling hot black coffee, Heather Moore Niver is trying to herd her wily sheep and chickens, persnickety cats, and beardy husband at her cabin in New York State.
13 Stories 'Til Halloween 
Awesome! Sooooo creepy!
Pleased to creep you out a bit! Thank you.
Yup. Simple, to the point. Gave me chills. Well done!
Glad you liked it! I waffled with whether to keep it brief or expand it to increase the tension.
More of a good thing, for me, is almost always good. But this works as it is, so either way… awesome!
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Quick and to the point of skeery. Loved it 😀
Thank you! Pleased to make you askeert.
Lovely imagery!
So simple, so creepy. Love it!