Thunder lashed against the windows of my small place of exile. Where I sat at my desk, I could feel the vibration through wooden floor boards. Drawing my shawl more closely around me, I listened to the howling wind.
With a shuddering breath, I pushed my small desk clock away. I did not want to sleep. I had begun to sleep during the day and pace awake at night. The dreams came in daylight just as they did in darkness. The call of him was distant, a vampiric howl above the crackling flames, flesh burning. I summoned an acrid odor in my imagination, a bitter, choking smoke in my lungs.
The betrayal was tart on my tongue. I could not think of it all at once. Restlessly I rose and moved to the other side of the room, away from the window, where there was a mirror.
I sensed her presence just beyond the glass, the presence of the other one. My reflection was all I saw, just a woman in a long robe, with a long plait over one shoulder. I touched my own image and tried to imagine her smiling face, but it was too incongruous with my unhappy feelings. She was lost to me, just as the others were lost to me. I could no longer see her, but I trusted she was there all the same.
I moved to my bed, to try again at sleep. I extinguished the lamp and climbed between chilled sheets. The howling wind was louder, refusing to leave me in peace. It sounded like a keening, childlike cry, a lost one in the storm. It caused my heart to turn over. I had no wish to meet an otherworldly being this night.
Tomorrow would bring great change in my life. My lost benefactress had left me a legacy, an old house in the wilderness. I would be able to live independently for a while.
I shut my eyes against the keening cry of the wind. Would it sound this human to me if I had not been listening to it all night long? If my mind were not so troubled? I could not tell anymore. The wind rattling the panes were like clutching, ruthless fingers. Tomorrow I would be gone from this hovel.
I turned my face to the pillow to stifle another lonely shudder. I tried not to remember how my benefactress had customarily closed the drapes and extinguished the lamps. Her hand on my hair, her soft syllable to me, "Jo."
With a shuddering breath, I pushed my small desk clock away. I did not want to sleep. I had begun to sleep during the day and pace awake at night. The dreams came in daylight just as they did in darkness. The call of him was distant, a vampiric howl above the crackling flames, flesh burning. I summoned an acrid odor in my imagination, a bitter, choking smoke in my lungs.
The betrayal was tart on my tongue. I could not think of it all at once. Restlessly I rose and moved to the other side of the room, away from the window, where there was a mirror.
I sensed her presence just beyond the glass, the presence of the other one. My reflection was all I saw, just a woman in a long robe, with a long plait over one shoulder. I touched my own image and tried to imagine her smiling face, but it was too incongruous with my unhappy feelings. She was lost to me, just as the others were lost to me. I could no longer see her, but I trusted she was there all the same.
I moved to my bed, to try again at sleep. I extinguished the lamp and climbed between chilled sheets. The howling wind was louder, refusing to leave me in peace. It sounded like a keening, childlike cry, a lost one in the storm. It caused my heart to turn over. I had no wish to meet an otherworldly being this night.
Tomorrow would bring great change in my life. My lost benefactress had left me a legacy, an old house in the wilderness. I would be able to live independently for a while.
I shut my eyes against the keening cry of the wind. Would it sound this human to me if I had not been listening to it all night long? If my mind were not so troubled? I could not tell anymore. The wind rattling the panes were like clutching, ruthless fingers. Tomorrow I would be gone from this hovel.
I turned my face to the pillow to stifle another lonely shudder. I tried not to remember how my benefactress had customarily closed the drapes and extinguished the lamps. Her hand on my hair, her soft syllable to me, "Jo."