"
Greetings." The whisper came straight back at me in an echo so quick that I knew I was very near the wall of the cave, then it lost itself, hissing, in the roof.
There was movement there – at first, I thought, only an intensifying of the echo's whisper, then the rustling grew and grew like the rustling of a woman's dress, or a curtain stirring in the draught.
Something went past my cheek, with a shrill, bloodless cry just on the edge of sound. Another followed, and after them flake after...
Published on April 22, 2010 16:28