I awoke after several hours to the sounds of strange, almost otherworldly birds chattering overhead. It took me but a second to figure out what those daemonic noises were, those eldritch birds which are of one mind. I bolted straight out of the dilapidated bed and attempted as best I could to cower under it, hoping that none of my spindly limbs would be visible to anyone who looked through the faintly smudged windows.
After what felt like hours, the distinctly not-birdlike screams subsided, and I, figuring it was safe, crawled out of hiding and continued to waste my days away browsing the internet.
Eventually I stumbled upon a website which had collected several of the works of the famed H.P. Lovecraft, and immediately began traipsing through the virtual book, looking for a pleasurable, serene story or several to read. However, being a collection of Lovecraft, I found nothing of the sort, though I was still quite enthralled by the poetic quality which pervaded the great author's work. After I finished a few of the stellar works, I left that website - after bookmarking it, of course - and continued on my internet odyssey.
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