sjsprWriting

It's a cold dark night at the abandoned park. The only source of light is the moon; shining down upon an old man on a wooden bench, surrounded by darkness. He takes out a cigarrette and tries to light it but the chilly wind doesn't let him. After a while, he finally lights it and he begins to hear a soft whisper behind him. He turns around but sees nothing. The old man looks around but can only see darkness. He begins to hear the whispers again. He then hears as if a little girl were singing a song. It grows louder and louder. I'm coming, I'm coming. The moon is covered by a cloud and darkness engulfs the old man. When the cloud passes and the moonlight shines upon the old bench again, all that can be sen is the half smoked cigarrette light slowly fading away.