It's Twelve O'clock

June 9, 2010
By Anonymous

The ancient historical coarse dark-brown clocktower struck twelve, his
sleepy yawn crawled up the pitch black ferny floors of the willow trees,
passed the dents of hibernating squirrels that twitched and shivered
unwillingly to his whispers in their sleep, abruptly throwing his tantrum
by rattling helpless leaves off their fragile, thin and defenseless
branches with an evil menancing laugh that glided pass the forsaken road,
sprinted swiftly through endless concrete building, shattering
windscreens of cars, kicking down innocent trashbins to their dirty
deathbeds .....when all of a sudden he paused abruptly....two
streets away a dog barked , uneased by his sudden disappearance only to
run whining away into the darkness - powerless at the high pitched
scream that penetrated through the walls of houses, stomping through
rooms like an angry tenant after a quarel, enrooting fear into the
weak ,sensitive heart of a child.

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This article has 1 comment.

on Aug. 7 2010 at 11:46 am
L.C.Philp BRONZE, Phoenix, Arizona
4 articles 0 photos 17 comments

Favorite Quote:
"All growth is a leap in the dark, a spontaneous, unpremeditated act without benefit of experience."

-- Henry Miller

I like the flow of this piece, and the detail leading into each description! Good word choice!

Btw, Will you comment on my work The List

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