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1 o' clock
June 6, 2019
The leaves hustling
The wind whistling
It arrives slithering
Silent as a cat's prowl
It strolled in the dimmed hall
It smiled in its red lips
In the suit it wore so crisp
It came to me hands clasped together
Steps that of the fall of a feather
I gasped at his face
As thin and pale as the finest lace
It rubbed its fingers to make blood
I noticed the white shirt smeared with dirt
It closed the eyes muttering
By then my whole body was shaking
All of a sudden it took my hand
I felt the wetness of the blood so red
And then, it disappeared
© Julie S., Marblehead, MA
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Its one of my nightmares....this one is that of a vampire...I woke up screaming...