Walking alone in
a cemetery at night.
The mist swaying.
The wind moaning.
Shadows appearing.
Then disappearing.
Leading me somewhere.
Or maybe following me.
A statue looms ahead.
A tall statue.
Taller than the mausoleums.
It’s moving.
Coming closer.
Time to run.
Walking in a graveyard at night
may not have been such a good idea.
Ouch!
It scratched me!
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