The Graveyard

Don’t visit the graveyard at night, I thought.

The wind blew wild and my hair ran free, I was cold and on the verge of freezing. I looked up to see a man…

No, that’s not a man, that’s a statue

He was looking right at me. “H-hello?” 

God, why did it have to be so cold?

He reached out his hand…

For me?

I grabbed on, not knowing the consequences and warmth spread through my hand, but why?
I looked down to see him running out of the graveyard.
I had now become the statue.
I had taken its place. Until it was cold again, I’d be here alone.

The cold, winter soldier.

One thought on “The Graveyard

  1. Wow, what a powerful story! Well done, indeed. It sent shivers up my spine.

    Michelle, Team 100wc,
    Melbourne, Australia

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