What Creeps in the Night
by C.L. Gordon
It wasn’t a chosen profession, the way she lived. It was a matter of survival. But she learned to accept the dangers of nightlife—even if it was just working for crumbs.
Alone in the big city. Living in some hole in the wall. It wasn’t enjoyable, especially being out this late. And when would this night end? Perhaps a peek could be had at the old woman’s watch, over there at the bus stop. She hurried over to the bench, weary of her surroundings.
Wait. Was the old woman pointing that timid, withered old finger in her direction? What was behind her? A mugger? A rapist? Some deranged fiend?
“Wha … what is it?”
The elderly woman’s eyes widened. “AHHHHHH!”
“What is it?!”
“AHHHHHH! WHY WON’T IT GO AWAY?!”
She looked up to see the old woman’s shoe hover briefly. The thick black heel came down fast. SQUISH!
Everything went black. She couldn’t see the old woman shudder, but could hear her hoarse mumblings as life faded away:
“Can’t stand bugs, no I can’t … ‘specially cockroaches.”