Jasmyn Kline

Grendel Park

The streets were quiet tonight, the only sound, Sahara’s footsteps against the cracked pavement. It was not the peaceful stillness of a warm summer evening, nor the blanketed silence of a frosty winter day- but rather the ominous hush that only presents itself prior to a storm. Yet, a glance at the sky revealed no clouds and there was not so much as a breeze to carry the incoming scent of rain. And still, Sahara rubbed her arms as if to ward off the anticipated chill as she continued along the dimly lit side streets, careful to avoid pockets of complete darkness. You never knew what lie hidden in the shadows, the reek of sulfur and the coppery tang of blood more than enough to push people into the perceived safety of the light. Sahara did not consider herself an exception.