The Mystique Man of Manor

After early fall of winter dusk it was getting dark I completed the day’s tiring geological field work In the desolate moor of the Scottish Highland I was driving fast on the road around wetland The car got stuck in mud, I couldn’t take it out I was in for trouble in wilderness, I’d no doubt But luckily I spotted a Victorian manor not far Before the nightfall I hurriedly walked up there Desperately knocked on the wooden door carved It creaked, opened by an old man looked starved He let me inside dusty living room dark and stale Greeted by toxic smoke of dim lantern to inhale His curled lips quivered, faintly asked, ”you hungry?” I was glad this kind man was taking good care of me. He disappeared in the dark bolting the front door A long while he didn’t return, I decided to explore Down the hallway out of a room I saw streak of light I peeked within, saw he was stone still, sitting upright Arms stretched out clasping a human skeleton close Not looking at me he said, “your destiny you chose This one is old, I need a new one for my salvation” From his tone I knew that was not a false narration Cold sweat streamed down my jelly spine in shiver I escaped through the backyard door, ran to the car. January 22, 2019