My weekdays start at 3:30am.
The world is anything but asleep at 3:30am.
The world sighs as soon as you step out the door. A crinkle of fallen leaves stepped on by an unknown predator (or chipmunk). The wheeze of the wind through the bare trees. The scratching noise of your own footsteps on the sidewalk that seem echo in every hollow of the night. Then, of course, there are the mournful grey clouds stretched across the moon above.
Three o’clock is far past the witching hour, and yet, there’s a chill that makes goosebumps rise, that makes hair stand on end. Is the mist just a mist, or a lonesome spectre? I try not to be superstitious, but I have such a vivid imagination. For a moment, I let myself believe that the rustling in the dumpster was a ravenous zombie, and I ran to the car.
Then, I laughed at myself, of course.
At three in the morning, the mind can do strange things.
Especially on Halloween.
“Eerie.” – Daily Post Prompt