Where the edge of the Watch meets the frilled cuff of the Green, there forms a pocket of leaf and iron and the blades of each deter all light. In the deepest shadow of this pocket there is a seat, studded with flowers that nod and are the color of bone. Deeper still there is a thing--shaped loosely into the form of a man. And he does not nod with the flowers. And he does not sit in the seat. He stands, very still, rooted to the ground like a gate of ivy, like a tree of spears.
He only moves within the fringes of sight, and there his face is blurred by fear. Your own.
In the way of all of Those Who Follow, if you look back, you'll have trapped him. If you run without acknowledgement, it will be the reverse.
For the seat is not for him, you see.
4 comments:
i am so freaked out right now.
just don't go walking in chapin parkway alone, is all I'm saying.
I've been trying to unravel this riddle for a few minutes now. Did you have a run in with the creep?
maybe not THE creep, but certainly A creep. hiding in the bushes. didn't give chase, or do anything. not that he needed to--I put on some SPEED.
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