Still here

Still here.

I am the ghost in the hall. The noise outside your bedroom window that draws you from your sleep.

It’s been years since I’ve wandered the streets at night. Late nights. Sometimes all night. I’d find so many things that you’ll never see, out there in the dark, while you dream.

I am out there now. It’s darker than before, colder still. But I am out there. Quiet and softly I tread through your yard. Your head on your pillow. Your toes peeking out from under the covers. I might like to bite them off. But I will not. Not tonight.

I will leave you to slumber. Leave you to return to your dreams. And you will open your bed to me anyway. Ready to eat my kisses like a starving stray.

You will not miss me in the morning when I have gone. You will get on with your day. Move on with your life. On your way to work. On your way home again. The laundry needs you. I do not. And you will have lost the need for me. You have learned that there is greater pain than that of a broken heart.

The faces in the shadows watch you. You hate them for it. It is those unblinking eyes that drive you to pull down the bottle from the kitchen cupboard. Pouring drink after drink till the shadows are empty again. Just pray that the bottle doesn’t run dry before you’re able to stare out into the darkness unafraid, if only for one last night.


About magnumturtle

I write fiction.
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