Secrets
[pre]Secrets. Secrets are what were shrouded in mystery in the bayou of the Old South . Folks around those parts wanted them to disappear and be gone forever. But nature was always willing to spill with the gossipy winds and the incessant pestering heat that played with one’s senses.
Among the many trails leading up to the marshy banks were footprints. The muddy ground had hardened to showcase their imprinted relics. The winds murmured to the dull earth-colored grasses who in turn slumped by the wayside to reveal yet more secrets. On cue, drops of crimson blood appeared on the undergrowth illuminated by the glowering sun fire.
Further along the trail traveled by many, were the gathering flocks of Cypress giants. Branches wickedly outstretched, sprawled, tantalizing the reverent waters. The area was now vacant except for the stunted branches that laid piously beside their towering fathers. Ashen tips, their soul's long burnt out from the unending summer’s night.
The sun, now dying, hid in defeat behind the Cypresses. The scent of the air turned like the tides. Permeated throughout the air was the smell of rot and disdain.
An unremitting pattern of creaks fragmented the silence from behind one of the roosting Cypress trees. A sinister arm exultingly brandished it’s latest jewelry.
A dilapidated rope dangled mercilessly while a noose upheld a lifeless body of a man. The man’s pleading, glazed eyes sunken into the charcoal like skin. His overalls covered with the fingerprints of malice and irrational hatred.
Mourners dressed in black cawed out as they winged away from the bayou.[/pre]
