The Witness

The night was young.

She was walking home on the road, but there were two others behind her today. I noticed them before she did. But she did ran for her safety, as I wished.


Next day, though I flickered at the lamp post, I didn’t see her. Ever again.

Linking in to From 15 to 50 : Fiction Link up at the Moving Quill for the word prompt, “Perspective”

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