The night was still. Not a sound of wind could be heard. Silence filled the warm evening air, broken only by the sound of the crow’s wings flapping as it returned to its nest with food.
With the ghostly silhouette of the tower and the rickety pathway that led to it, the haunting silence made Lucy nervous. She felt something crawling on the back of her neck as she thought about what she might find inside the tower, and what might be hidden in the darkness around her.
Her heart began to pound rapidly inside her chest, matching the beat of the crow’s wings.
Lucy had always been slightly suspicious of crows; they had black wings, piercingly sharp beaks and a very alarming voice. The crow had settled down in one of the crooked branches of a nearby tree. She thought it was watching her. Surely it wasn’t though? Crows didn’t do that. It must have been her imagination.
Labels: The Forbidden Tower, Writing