Dusk closes in on the cracking fields. Bitter air slices as razors between every branch and blade.
At the woods’ edge, under the ancient freeze-dead willow, there is movement.
The shadows shiver and the ice-crusts crack.
Snowdrifts heave upwards, lurching towards the pewter sky like a drowned man found his way to Heaven.
Then, labored, aching, cold tendons creaking, the hungry wights awaken.
And they come.
Aged bones deadfall-gray, splotched with lichen, they come.
Hollowed ribs and yellow-cracked teeth, they come.
Ice-bright eyes in clotted skulls, they rise from forgotten graves.
They come.
God has forsaken us.
They come.
Orume Legberis is a practical woman with a practical life. She is a nursing student, a mother, an artist, and a dreamer. She wears sensible shoes and too much makeup. She loves the arcane, the occult, and the weird, forever seeking the next creepy thing. She also hails from Georgia.
Fabulous!
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