They met on the night of the jasmine moon
Her white dress aglow in the light grabbed his attention, Moth to flame. But that was years ago and now she stands, full with child, alone in the darkness of a cottage in the middle of nowhere - worn and in need of repair. Door ajar; still feeling his absence. A cat growls in the corner, He sees what is a head of her. His warning unheeded.
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An unsettling air.
Where once there was color, Now shown gray. Foliage once vibrant Now stood brown. Dilapidated porch Where once children played. Closed windows and drawn curtains kept memories locked inside. The entire scene as if it knew - perhaps sensed - your departure. And a small boy at the bottom of a stone staircase Folded over himself, Dirty, bare feet, tattered once-white shirt, Starlings at his shoulder, Alone, Waits. |
AuthorAudrie is a writer and editor living in Illinois. She is a fan of all things horror and pop culture. Archives
February 2021
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