Vermilion Dawn

This corner of the graveyard was abandoned, and nature had been left to take its course. Even in the dead of winter the foliage was thick, the branches of the trees close together. The grass was overgrown; in places knee-height. What few gravestones there were had been long forgotten, left to crumble and discolour. Now they looked like nothing more than rotten teeth poking through the undergrowth. Nobody ever came here. From the graveyard little could be seen of it, and there was nothing to see.

Today, all that had changed drastically.

He looked up to find some reprieve in the open skies above, but it was as though a lid had been lowered. The clouds were heavy, grey and pressing down low upon the land. He was aware of his heart beating fast, his breathing fast too, and made a conscious effort to slow them both down. At least the air out here was a little clearer, at least the winter chill in the air scoured through his nose and throat, replacing the taste of death with a sharp metallic tinge. Now that he was away from the overgrown corner of the graveyard he couldn’t see what had been done, but he knew it was an image he would never forget.  He ducked into one of the natural avenues, beneath the bare, hanging branches of ivy-covered trees, feeling strands of web brush his face like the touch of ghosts.  

January 1st 2009 - July 23rd 2009