Fireside

Highho

Fireside

Gloria confidently walks along stillard street towards her fireside.
Her right hand grazing the railings which secure the cloned abodes.
Ownership is useless unless your peice is clearly defined.
Her hand purres against the railing,
Then a brief interlude.
“eleven nearly there” she smiles in anticipation.
The purring continues.
A dog barks,
Minds eye images which only vaguely resemble a dog appear.
Her heart and feet accelerate,
Her right hand no longer sounds.
She Stumbles,
Her ears are filled with a Sudden sharp screech.
She is struck and killed instantly by a grey Nissan Almera.
Finally Gloria sees.


Dont know if you would consider this a poem or a very short story, let me know what ya think in any case.