An Empty Street
What's that over there? There, at the corner of your eye?
My eyes darted to the spot, watching the world whip by.
There was nothing there.
Behind you!
I spun around and stared down the street.
There was nothing there.
A cool breeze blew, evaporating the cold sweat trickling down my forehead. My hands were cold, and as they grapsed at each other, trying to find companionship, I felt uneasy. Uneasy, as if someone, something, was watching me. In front, a lone street lamp projected cold light onto the cobblestone ground, projecting shadows on the graffiti-filled walls that seemed to have a life of their own, changing shapes and sizes as the wind blew. I quickly walked under the lamp, feeling the light shine down on me. Despite it, I felt cold. The hair on my arms stood on end, and adrenaline began to course through my body. I looked down at my shadow on the cobblestone pavement. As the wind blew and my clothes waved about, my shadow kept changing, seemingly morphing into alien shapes.
Looking up, I saw the brick wall across the road, bathed in the eerie light of the street lamp. I could see some of the graffiti in the dim light, their awkward shapes alien to my eyes. There were holes in the wall. They seemed to be watching me, mysterious eyes shrouded in darkness. Suddenly, a shadow passed by the wall and I jumped. It was a black cat, pacing down the street, stopping to stretch its legs. It looked at me and yawned. I decided to continue walking.
As I left the light of the street lamp, I passed by the openings of alleys. Somehow, I thought I could see dark figures standing at the ends of the alleys, staring right at me, or even worse, preparing to attack. Suddenly, I heard a crow call out. I was frozen in my tracks. A wave of nervous heat ran through my body, and I felt another bead of sweat flow down my temple. I couldn't move at all. I was rooted to the spot, unable to escape the impending danger. I gulped in anxiety. I tried lifting a leg. It wouldn't move. I was pinned down by a silent predator. I felt it behind me, reaching out with claws, trying to get a hold of me. My eyes looked about haphazardly. Every single thing seemed like it would come to life and attack me. The car parked beside me, the bricks on the walls, the gravel on the ground, the nondescript drain cover. It was maddening. Outside, I was frozen. Inside, I was hysterical, screaming for my life, wanting to escape from the presence behind me.
I looked down at my leg. Move! I screamed in my head. My foot shifted. It felt dead and frozen, but at last, it began to move. Slowly, but surely, my foot raised itself above the ground, trembling. It ached inexplicably, but I forced it to move forward. Fear and paranoia had me rooted to the spot, but my resolve had overcome the paralysis. I moved one foot forward, then the next. Step by step I was escaping from the clutches of the presence behind me. My laboured steps turned into pacing, then brisk walking, and then I was running for my life, running away from the presence I felt behind me, staring right into my soul.
At last, I reached the junction, well lit my street lamps. The light from them was warm now. Stopping to catch my breath, I turned back to look down the street.
There was nothing there.