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.
Audrie is a writer and editor living in Illinois. She is a fan of all things horror and pop culture.