A Drabble
Down Whippoorwill Road
The buzzards circle overhead. A train whistle blows distantly.
The man had taken me from the school parking lot. He’d seemed nice enough, genuinely asking for directions.
“First day on the job. Do you know where Whippoorwill Road is?”
The shiny, yellow florist’s van full of flowers with the familiar “Macy’s Daisies” logo on the side didn’t look like the kind of cargo van that was driven by abductors. I know that now as I lie here rotting in the wild. It won’t be too long until I am completely devoured. I’ll have seemingly vanished. I will be missing forever.
and A Poem
WAITING
The sunlit dewdrops
Fill until they can hold no more
Then they run down the windows
In rivulets
Just like every morning
They roll down the glass
Pooling at the base of the window
Seeping inside
Turning to mold
In the cracks
I can’t reach out and touch them
With my fingertips
Like I want to
They can only entertain from afar
For I am confined
A spider builds its web
Way up high in the corner
A moth landed there
And met its death
It, too, was confined
I’m wrapped in blankets
Not in the silkiness of the web
I just as well be
All my life is sucked away, too
I wonder when I’ll be fully depleted
I try to reach out my fingertips
But they’re heavy, concrete
The cardinal came again
I wanted to touch it
It only stared at me
The oak tree sways
It dances wildly in the storms
I hope it uproots
And crashes through the window
Freeing me like the birds
Day after day
Year after year
I am still here
Watching
Waiting
Miranda Crites
Miranda Crites is a reader, book reviewer, photographer, writer, and lover of horror from the ghostly woods of rural West Virginia. Miranda has always enjoyed reading, photography, and writing. She received her first camera as a gift when she was nine years old. The writing bug bit her at a very early age. She won the young writers’ contest in first grade and never stopped writing.
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You can find out more about Miranda via her website www.mirandacritesreadsandwrites.com
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