The air was a viscous clammy cold that could only exist at night.
She looked over her shoulder, was she really alone? There was a faint rustle in the foliage, the type that would not divulge its origin, she nervously resumed her way home silently.
Her figure hurrying down the path, her thoughts wandered over what happened earlier, the pang of loss reared as she remembered that awful sound that took someone today, her dear lovers life.
Tears streamed down her eyes as the crickets beckoned her into a night laden with emptiness.
She was nearly home, just few steps.