The Silent Standing Shadow

In the historic neighborhood, where rows of trees that were a century old lined each street, it was a calm evening. The dwellings were covered in a dense fog that hung low, casting shadows over every nook and cranny.

Even though Rima had always enjoyed taking walks in the evening, something felt different now. The silence seemed to go on forever, as though the fog itself were listening, and the air was particularly cold.

She saw a weird man standing still by the old lamppost at the end of the street as she passed the houses she knew. It appeared to disappear into the shadows and blend in perfectly. The person remained a mystery, a silent shadow in the mist, but Rima paused, straining, trying to make out any details.

"Hello?" Her voice sounded abnormally loud in the silence as she called out. No answer.

The person just stood there, seemingly observing her from the corner of her eye, without moving. A shiver went through her body. She thought about going back, but her curiosity kept her moving forward.

Rima took a tentative step forward, her shoes making a faint crunch on the damp gravel. The shadow remained still, not even a flicker. She wondered if her eyes were playing tricks on her—maybe it was just an old coat or a tree casting an odd shape?

But as she drew closer, the silence seemed to deepen, growing heavier. Each step she took was followed by an echo, as if someone or something else was mirroring her movements from somewhere in the darkness. She stopped, heart pounding. “Is… is someone there?”

Again, silence.

Then, without warning, a soft breeze drifted past, carrying with it a faint whisper. She couldn’t make out the words, but it sounded like… her name? She shivered, wrapping her coat tighter around her.

Gathering her courage, Rima walked a little closer. She was only a few feet away now, close enough to see that this was indeed a figure—a tall, thin silhouette with a featureless face, just standing there, watching. No, not watching—waiting.

She hesitated, an inexplicable fear clutching at her. A question formed in her mind, unbidden: *How long has it been waiting?*

The thought made her uneasy. She took a step back, suddenly desperate to leave. But just as she turned, she heard the faintest sound, like the rustle of leaves or a soft sigh. She whipped around, only to find that the figure was now closer, still silent, still standing.

Rima’s pulse quickened. “Who… are you?” she whispered, though she didn’t expect a response. But the figure shifted slightly, almost imperceptibly, and in that movement, she sensed an ancient sadness, a kind of sorrow that lingered in the cold air.

She turned to leave again, but her feet felt rooted to the ground. She couldn’t look away from the shadow—it was as if it had woven itself into her mind, pulling her closer with each passing second. Her thoughts swirled, and she found herself wondering if this figure had once been someone like her, someone curious, drawn to the unknown.

But before she could lose herself entirely in the thought, the figure stepped back into the mist, melting into the shadows as if it had never been there. The silence returned, complete and overwhelming.

Rima blinked, the spell broken. She found herself alone by the lamppost, the fog swirling around her. With a shudder, she turned and walked home, glancing over her shoulder every few steps, half-expecting to see the silent shadow standing there, watching her. But the street remained empty, and only the mist lingered, thick and impenetrable.

As she reached her door, a whisper echoed faintly through her mind—a soft voice in the stillness of the night, as if the shadow had left a part of itself with her.