Tag Archives: Flash Nonfiction

Morning Walk

I’m walking through the cemetery this morning
Sometimes I use it to pray 
But I’m just listening to an old radio show
And dreaming of hot coffee and milk
Anyways, I have my bright teal
umbrella and my backpack and I’m stomping through the wet leaves with my headphones
And I look back
And there’s a figure all in black with a black umbrella
And I can’t see their face
(I don’t have my glasses on)
(It’s drizzling)
But I couldn’t even make out where the head was
Hat maybe, under the umbrella
So I turned towards the woods
because the cemetery gates on that side are always locked
And when I look back, the person is still in the cemetery
Taking my path
And I really can’t see their face
And the coat is really long
Like a black trench coat
And they’re just following me
So I get to the street and cross, and I can see the person just standing at the rocks staring at me.
From behind the gates.
Or I think they’re staring, because I never saw their eyes.