Will You Offer Me Your Hunger? by Louise Mangos
This is the fourth night, and I’m still waiting for you. You promised you would come.
I think I hear the creak of your footfall on the porch, and my heart thumps with delicious anticipation. But it is only the wind. It has blown the clouds from the moon, diffusing a cold, ghostly light. I shiver, and pull my cloak around me. There’s no more wood to burn. The acrid smell of damp ash lingers in the hearth from snakes of rain that have slithered down the chimney to strangle the fire.
I finally decide to leave. Moving into the squares of moonlight cast on the floor, I step between the shadows of the window frame like a child avoiding the cracks in the pavement. As I move towards the door, I glance in the mirror above the mantelpiece. I put my hand to my neck, startled by the ghostly pallor of my skin.
And I wonder if you came without me knowing.
Louise Mangos is a compulsive writer and prosecco drinker. She lives on a Swiss Alp with her Kiwi husband and two sons. You can find her on Facebook and Twitter @LouiseMangos or visit her website www.louisemangos.com for links to more of her stories.