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I saw him standing there, a dark figure, hunched over, matching the curve of the archway. With hesitation, I made my way towards him, hoping he was just a lost tourist, looking for direction, or perhaps, waiting there for someone to join him. My footsteps echoed across the stone pathway, loud enough to wake whatever spirits may still be haunting this old place. He didn’t move, not even a twitch could be perceived.

I stopped. Still nothing. I turned around to go back the way I came in, now hearing what appeared to be footsteps coming up behind me. I turned quickly, ready to confront the man who had not, until this time, decided to acknowledge me. There was no one there. I looked down the hall. He was still standing there, same position, not moving. Maybe all I heard was still the echoing off the walls. Or maybe I was imagining things.

Places like this always fascinated me, but at times they frightened me, all the same. I turned again, walking back to where I came from. Again, foot steps behind me. I turned my head, just enough to see, but I continued walking. He was following me. At least I think it’s a he, because he was cloaked in black, with no sense of a female figure whatsoever. Only deep sunken eyes, and pale white skin contrasted his clothing. He looked at me, quizzically, as if he had no idea what I was. He made no sound, no attempt to speak to me. I looked back the same way, and decided it best that I do not speak either.

It was a brief encounter. One final look from eyes, dark as midnight, and he returned to his place in the archway. I picked up my pace, hoping to find my way back, lest I am caught forever in this stone prison. Finally finding my way to the light, I took one last look into the cave. I will never forget his eyes. Though I’ve not gone down there again, he haunts me til this day. Perhaps a lost soul, perhaps not.  I will never know.





©2018 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
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