Suddenly, I heard it. It was coming from the other side of the passage. A heart-wrenching, pitiful cry, of either pain or sorrow, I couldn't tell. It slipped off the shattered windows and crept up my goosebump-pricked back. Startled, my gaze shifted from one end of the dimly-lit corridor to the other, leaving a flickering shadow in my wake. Beside me, a candle sputtered and coughed on the suffocating, dust-ridden surroundings. Hark! A figure! Looming in the overgrown undergrowth surrounding the house, just within my eyesight.
there ya bloody go laddies🤙
YOU ARE READING
Hark!
PoetryHere is a fair warning dear reader: for within the confines of this very book you will witness a masterpiece, so thrilling that the great bard Miss Hore herself feared 'it was not at grade level'. Written daringly in secret by two witty young noveli...
