Chapter 2

Spirit Chimes

 

Upon walking the moist ground, I gaze upon a sight that is pathetic in the daylight, but a terror in the elements around me. A paper wind chime, possibly made by a small child, flutters violently in the gusting wind. I detest gazing at it. The object is constructed in such a teasing way for me, with its juxtaposed whites and blacks to form the image of a horrid being. I wish to look away, but its horror, along with beauty of wonder, keeps my eyes focused upon it. The full body flows in a random motion with its many tails shifting at an even quicker rate and an even more random pattern. The sound of the wind in my ears and the sight of this paper contraption all gather in my fears and compares this paper chime to the very quality of a silent ghost. This realization strikes a fear that prickles my heart. Each breath is quickened as the anxiety dominates my feelings. I quickly look away onto a new sight of both joy and depression, for the road ahead shows more of a terror than the haunted spirit of a chime.

Author's Note

Stupid fear, but true