7. Week 5: Response
A string of amber lights illuminates the long stretch of road as it disappears into the distance. The motorway is completely deserted. All I can hear is the sound of my footsteps as I walk, and the faint hooting of an owl high above me. The inky darkness envelops me like a warm blanket, muffling everything but what is immediately around me. I focus on the rhythm of my feet on the concrete, and the way the street lights weave intricate shadows around me. The road ahead is tinged pink by their glow.
Suddenly a chilly breeze makes me pull my coat tighter around myself. The shadows lengthen. The solitude of the motorway no longer seems peaceful – I now wish that I could be safe in my house, protected by brick and metal and glass. My footsteps become more hurried, more frantic, as I speed up in the hope of reaching my destination.
Is it my imagination, or are the lights ahead of me flickering? Is it just my mind playing tricks, or are they so dim, they are close to being extinguished? I am running now, the separate orbs of light blurring into one by my side. Even as my feet pound the concrete, I fancy that I can see sinister figures reaching for me from the approaching blackness. I stop, my ragged breath like thunder in my ears. The street lights are as bright as ever -- night does twist the imagination. I breathe a sigh of relief. That’s when I am drowned in darkness. I scream.
I kind of didn't know how to end it so it had a bit more plot than a description should do but oh well :)