I watched her walking down the street, a low, feral moan echoed behind her.
She was naked, moving slow with her head help up high.
She moved like a queen, feet dirtied, but unphased.
I could see remnants of what had been before: a crown on her head, beautiful jewels, decadent robes.
The howl came from somewhere behind her. Guttural, primal. Screams as if some great beast were in labor.
Shadows danced around her on the buildings. Street lamps casting out snakes and deer and demons.
She’s looking for someone. Someone to take her place. To fill the void that she has left.
A trail of tears and sorrow followed her every footstep. Her smile broke hearts.
Her own shadow clawed the ground behind her, being reluctantly dragged along her path.
She had seven long gashes along her side, bruised and bleeding. Two flies buzzed around her.
The crying is horrible. I think it’s what started the whole thing. And the flies, those two horrible flies are mimicking the sound like two deranged parrots.
She walked further down the street, regal and intense, eyes looking upward. In her arms she cradled a broken shadow, faded in places. She stroked it, using the blood from her wounds to wet its lips.
She turned around to look at me and the wailing noise stopped.
Thunder, like gates crashing down the street.
The shadows flowed around me, through me.
She shook her head and began to walk away, pulling the shadows with her.