Beneath the Moon

377 Words

Moonlight shines in the window behind me casting shadows in the small chapel. My nights have taken on a rhythm, a comforting pattern. Just after the sun sets, I awaken from a dreamless sleep and the minute I move the cat who shares this space heads out the door. She has her own agenda. I say a brief prayer of thanks, whether I’m heard or not I don’t know, then leave the peaceful calm of the old building. I’ll spend tonight, as I usually do lately, with Michael. I walk the few blocks to his house, occasionally marveling at the changes my city has gone through over the centuries I’ve lived here, the way she has transformed herself. Gas lit cobblestone streets are now lined with electric lamps and paved in a dull gray. Instead of the clattering of hooves, I hear the pounding of the bass from a teenager’s car radio. Even the buildings have lost their character, the new homes just variations of the same theme. The people, though, are as entertaining as always, with their gaity and chatter, their fights and affairs.

The museum is open late this evening for a gala and Michael ordered our tickets months ago. I’ll grab a quick drink at his house, he keeps bottles in his refrigerator for me, so I will be able to focus on the peoples, and, even more, the art – the vibrant colors that scream from the canvases, the subtle shapes dancing between the textures, the beauty of life and love.

When I get to Michael’s townhouse I let myself in as usual, but the home is silent, no opera blazing from the stereo, no jazz being played on the baby grand. I’m nervous as I step into the living room. He’s there, lying on the couch, unconscious but alive thank heavens, bleeding from a gash on his forehead. Taking a deep breath memorizing the smell of the man who was here, I call the ambulance and then slip back out the door.

My prey is easy to follow. His stench leads me to Fabio’s, where he’s sitting at the bar, establishing his alibi. I sidle up to him. Convincing him to join me outside is simple and his blood is warm and delicious.



Dottie at Tink’s Place has a Monday Morning Flash Fiction challenge that I’m enjoying. Each Monday a new picture prompt will be posted and if you choose to participate you post your story on Friday – 350 words, give or take.


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