Dancing Shadows


It’s two dark thirty. It’s such an ungodly hour that even the devil makes a scary entry then retreats to his darksome quarters.

She is lost to a world of fantasy and rainbows and unicorns and sunflowers that giggle.

He no longer has a tail, the devil. It got burnt in the echelons of hell!

He, not the devil, should be asleep but he is not.

A donkey brays. Somewhere, a dog barks furiously at a swaying shadow.

Other shadows cast by the candle light set on the bedside table dance on the pale green wall. He places two fingers on her voluptuous body and imagines an abridged version of himself walking gingerly on this body that makes his blood thirsty.

Damn, at this rate he will need a map to go round her.

A silky lace. A mountain. He trips on the lace and comes tumbling down and down and down….

She slaps his hand and pulls the blanket over her body. Such petulance.

A retrieved hand.

Blood swirls in an unquenched rage.

The shadows dance more vigorously on the wall.

Lights out.

Photo Credit

Advertisements

share your thoughts

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s