Shifting shadows wander in the pitch dark. Freed from the light that anchors and keeps them tethered to things, they stalk the earth.
Shifting shadows follow you as best they can, often from afar; and they stand over your bed watching you sleep, unaware of their watching eyes.
Shifting shadows seek an unbiased view and watch life on their own terms, to see what it entails. In cupboards they hide and listen, praying with all their might for the doors to stay closed. Or under floorboards for days on end they will lie to experience every aspect of human life and emotion through sound alone.
Anywhere where light cannot bind and drag them around, they lurk hoping to learn something new, something about the lives they cannot have thanks to their crippling curse.
Shifting shadows wonder how it got this bad. When, and what, they did wrong to find themselves here as disenfranchised, disembodied nothings becoming one with darkness, ever groping toward the light.
They know only the dreams that motivate them, the dreams of life and love in the daylight, twilight, moonlight and the dawn's light. Even the gloaming, the horrible half light which tricks them into thinking they are alive, just as we are; twice a day.
Shifting shadows are a part of the darkness moving unseen by the life in the light that they crave, if only because it is denied them by circumstance and creation’s cruel hand.
Shifting shadows wander, wonder, keep moving, keep searching to find and learn the answers to their questions, finding and following clues to find that great treasure: the secret of life itself, how to live outside shadow, free from shame and able to function as all they watch and follow are able.
Shifting shadows follow you as best they can, often from afar; and they stand over your bed watching you sleep, unaware of their watching eyes.
Shifting shadows seek an unbiased view and watch life on their own terms, to see what it entails. In cupboards they hide and listen, praying with all their might for the doors to stay closed. Or under floorboards for days on end they will lie to experience every aspect of human life and emotion through sound alone.
Anywhere where light cannot bind and drag them around, they lurk hoping to learn something new, something about the lives they cannot have thanks to their crippling curse.
Shifting shadows wonder how it got this bad. When, and what, they did wrong to find themselves here as disenfranchised, disembodied nothings becoming one with darkness, ever groping toward the light.
They know only the dreams that motivate them, the dreams of life and love in the daylight, twilight, moonlight and the dawn's light. Even the gloaming, the horrible half light which tricks them into thinking they are alive, just as we are; twice a day.
Shifting shadows are a part of the darkness moving unseen by the life in the light that they crave, if only because it is denied them by circumstance and creation’s cruel hand.
Shifting shadows wander, wonder, keep moving, keep searching to find and learn the answers to their questions, finding and following clues to find that great treasure: the secret of life itself, how to live outside shadow, free from shame and able to function as all they watch and follow are able.
Note: There is an earlier, 250 Word, version of this here. I expanded it for the Woven Tale Press Link-up's prompt, Shadow.
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