A Grim Portent

A dark tale of obsession and creativity

This dark little story is inspired by the works of Poe. It’s a horror story with a psychological leaning. If you enjoy it, please do leave a comment!

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In the naked tree a black crow caws into the darkening night. Coarse and rasping, and filled with foreboding, it broke the quiet of the late autumn night.

Tormented by his demons, the writer fled the house, the place that was once his sanctuary and safety.

I have slain them. Slain them all, he thought in a frantic jumble of haphazard thoughts.

As darkness enshrouded the house, it cocooned him in a malaise so deep it penetrated his bones. Writing had been his life. It was the light that shone from within. Until it became all consuming. As summer faded into autumn, and proceeded onwards towards winter, his demeanour matched the season. Dark, cold and unforgiving.

Writing brought him comfort and solace. Following the untimely death of his daughter in the spring, it became a shield from the harshness of reality. It was an outlet, an opportunity to put his hope for better times into the world.