31.10.13

A Haunting


The wind is whistling, blowing the faint mist against my cheeks as I walk,
my feet stepping on wet leaves, dying, decaying.
The smell of their death intoxicating.
The crows call to each other as if they are preparing for a feast.
It is the day of All Hallow's Eve.

http://amareephotos.wix.com/veggiepop#!haunted/cw82
http://amareephotos.wix.com/veggiepop#!haunted/cw82


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