Tuesday, August 25, 2015

I hear the black dog growling

He is sniffing at my heels, winding round my legs, trying to trip me. He wants me to fall headlong into the deepest darkest pit, but I will not go. This dismal rain and the dark skies keep me indoors, out of the sunshine which makes him slink away, this creature of shadows. He scratches at the door with every squall of rain. He is in the drumming of the rain on the windows, the drip, drip from the gutters and the tossing of the trees in the wind.
The thunder cracks, the lightning flashes, the air clears, and I know I can break free.
I will not go into the pit.

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