Escaping in the fading light I see that face, the evil atop your building. No warning not to enter meant to scare me–the transformation from friendly statue to horror figure, was seen too late.
Interesting, the way you seemed to finagle your way into my mind, only to finally reject my response. What swamp of a life you must lead to entice, entangle, only to rebuke and retreat to your nest.
The horror shown in the gargoyle’s face could only be seen in twilight, after your trap was set and I fell, ensnared.
***
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The Bag Lady 
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