lands imagined by eye and ear
By evening I had made my feet and staggered through the trees. But as we passed to darkness, the fingers on my flesh turned to claws that latched on strong. They pierced and pulled, digging deeper with each step. I ripped my coat open and tore at the thing in vain. Bowed in pain I cried out loud, “God damn you! No! Let go!”
And to my wonder, it did… a bit.
We went on.
Before long, the forest gave way to open fields, and the fields to the flickering lights of town. I was glad to find the streets empty, to sneak by unseen. All were asleep or in the square where, despite the witching hour, the church glowed warm and bright against winter’s bed of white. Christmas Eve would soon turn Christmas Day…