The air feels light and breezy,

with a tang sensation of slapping whisps. 

The harrowing ash trees that are on their last life,

clinging to life and prosperity.

There is an endurance that something is watching,

the lurching agitation of being followed.

The air swooshes and whips,

that's how I know it is approaching. 

A murder of crows, 

cawing as they race furiously towards me.

The gravel kicks up with my force,

little pebbles meeting my horrified face.

I bolt upwards,

only to find myself in bed.

Drenched with heated sweat,

my whole body shakes with petrified fear.

I walk towards my window to get comfort,

the comfort of the cold night breeze.

My nerves slowly start to calm down,

until I witness flaps of black entities and distant cawings.