101

The night was cold on the neck of the scared man as he ran frantically down the wind-swept boardwalk, looking behind him periodically as he went. In his haste, he never realized that the normally crowded thoroughfare that was the center of late night festivities in Ocean City, Maryland, was now entirely devoid of even the slightest movement apart from his own urgent pace.

Taking a quick left into a shaded alleyway beside an arcade that had seen better days, he slowed to a quick walk, seeming calmer now with the ocean at his back and fading farther and farther away. He crossed the main street, littered with garish mini golf spots and other cheap tourist attractions and passed into the area of the island where hotels gave way to the summer homes of the wealthy. One such home, though slightly less impressive than the others, was his goal, and he clumsily reached into his jacket pocket and fumbled out an old set of keys, jamming them hurriedly into the lock. As he opened the door, a wave of relief swept over him, and he entered, slamming the door behind him and setting the dead bolt.

Now he felt much calmer, he leaned up against the wall to catch his breath and slow his frantic heart. From his back pocket he pulled a embroidered handkerchief of another generation to wipe the cold sweat form his brow. Finally he reached for the lights, the shadows fleeing from the room only to reveal his fears.

Out on the stairs leading up to his house, a sleeping seagull was suddenly roused from his perched by a chilling scream.

TO BE CONTINUED…

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