Burial Brae (extract)

At first, it looked as if mist was gathering.  But there was no mist anywhere else in the cemetery, and there had been none on the walk up Burial Brae, other than my own breath.  The mists swirled together and rapidly formed a shape.  An ethereal woman, formed from a solid core of mist although wispy and ragged at the edges.  The shape floated slowly, mist trailing from her hands and hair, walking towards the opposite end of the graveyard.  The phenomenon was frightening enough, but what chilled my blood was the expression that I glimpsed on her face. 


Her eyes were the darkest shadows, surrounded by the mist which formed her brow, nose and cheeks.  Her face held absolute horror and utter despair.  I could feel waves of intense coldness flowing towards me.  The expression on her face seemed to hold all the pain and sorrow of the world, and it was only possible to bear it for an instant before I had to turn away.

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