The sound of dead leaves being squished under the pressure of my heavily padded feet fills the atmosphere that was pregnant with silence, as I walk down the empty street on an autumn Afternoon. What used to be a very hectic street full of individuals strolling, running, talking, laughing, trying to get to work, getting on with their lives, is completely empty. Only their hazy memory of their existence lingered by.
A draft of chilly autumn air played with the little hairs at the nape of my neck sending goosebumps all over my coated body. The fabric of my coat’s pockets, a useless attempt to try protecting them from the cruel breeze, surrounds my fingers.
Bars start entering my peripheral vision and I look to my left to notice that I am close to the gates of a local park where usually toddlers and infants play with their mothers hovering by, chatting with each other also keeping a watchful eye. Now, it’s an inhabited space full of dunes of yellow and orange leaves and are weightlessly tossed around by the cruelly cold gust of wind.
As I near the gate, the long dark metal bars creek open, as welcoming me in with open arms, after decades of loneliness and a massive sense of hollowness.
The Dead leaved occupied the vacant chairs indicating that no one has paid a visit for quite a while.
I step in, and suddenly…
The Gale was shaking with rage, as it danced its way between the lifeless dried yellow leaves, making them sway with the rhythm of Mother Nature. They were like mad dancers, dancing for their lives, fearing the dark fury of the monstrous whisk of air. They were like a violent, wild, uncontrolled waves that kept crashing and crashing with no mercy, which would make it look like it’s haunted with enraged, seething spirits.
As if they sensed the presence of a stranger. An intruder.
Swings moving furiously by a command of a certain something. What really made me shiver is the sound of a sinister laugh that was carried by the turbulent draft; I started to slowly backtrack my footsteps to the gate with hope to rid myself of this unexplained fear. I reached the exit and hurriedly escaped the spine-chilling park.
However, not without hearing that sinister laugh again, making my existence a hazy memory, just like the others before me...
Copyright © 2015 Yasmin Mohamed El Ali. All rights reserved.