Fingers scraping powder as they screech down the dark chalkboard.

The slight creak of floor boards in your, apparently, empty, dark house

The earsplitting call of a speeding ambulance siren, here then gone

The unbearable rasp of a page as your finger smudges upon the turning.

Ice rushing to reach your lower back when slipped through the top of your shirt.

The impact of an unseen friend's hands, suddenly, alighting on your shoulders.

The realisation that you had an audience to the song you'd just sung with reckless abandon.

Your body slithering as a chill swiftly travels from the nape of your neck to the hollow of your back.

A spoonful of steaming soup down your throat when outside is frozen by winter's zeal.

The accidental, yet not unwelcomed, graze of a hand belonging to a different and unfamiliar body.

That one sweet-sounding lullaby, with too many plays, as it reaches the awaited crescendo.

The unexpected sight of him in a setting you knew well, suddenly foreign.

Caught breath but lungs still full.
Heart thumping yet stopped.
Shivers down your spine, only you can feel.