Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Terror

The cellphone rang. It was eerie, in the dark room, as the the bright lights of the phone flashed. Unknown calling, the display displayed. There was something predatory about the ring, as if it were a hound baying for the blood of its potential prey, as if it would ensnare anyone who answered its call. At the same time he felt fascinated by it, experiencing the primeval urge to touch something which may be dangerous. Beads of sweat accumulated on his forehead. He buried himself deeper into the quilt.


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