The night was dark, pitch black unlike anything found on Bob Ross’ infamous painting color palette that translated to the painting surface.
The night was especially foggy, you could see the hazy grey’ish swirls dance throughout the sky and anytime it touched a street light, it dances around the light into a thick rain that promises illusions and what you wont be able to see.
Unkempt graves, with numerous varieties of ivy and vine encroaching onto the weathered stone. The figure slowly crept towards the gravesite, something unnatural about its movements. Once it had reached on particularly old grave, it kneeled down, knees to dirt. Laying its cold hands over the barren dirt, it began to dig, and it didn’t stop until it had reached its goal. It carefully selected a coll...
The woman never cared for being out late at night, her mother use to say that if something needed to be shielded from the warmth of the sun it was best left to rest in the cover of nights darkness.
She had thought it was an interesting point, and usually always adhered to that logic, but tonight was a special occasion she did not intend to waste locked inside another moment, she had a sweet trea...
