The Untitled Story: Part 1
"You should not be here so late in the night," I jolted to an eerie touch on my shoulder, while the undertone of the whisper sent a shudder down my spine. I turned around to find an old man's sullen eyes penetrating mine. Had it not been for the loud barks of two dogs who started quarreling in the vicinity breaking out just then, I fear what might have happened. As soon as the spell broke and I came back to myself, I decided to avoid his hypnotic eyes and lowered mine a little. His tattered shoes with the thumbnail peeping out of one came into sight. His clothes looked a hundred years old, although still not older than his hideous beard. I could barely make out that he wore a pair of trousers and a torn shirt, with tons of dust coloring them homogeneous. As if the odds of him being a real human being weren't less already, I noticed his skin color—a speckled mahogany with no signs of life. Flies swarmed all around him. How could I have been so ignorant.
