A prod in the Night

darkvigilI woke up at 3 am! It was dark and cold, but I was sweating. Did I have a fever? It wouldn’t surprise me, I’ve been sick most of the week. It was hard to breathe so I sat up. My husband snored peacefully beside me.

Something drifted to the floor by the doorway. A feather!

I haven’t written all week, been too sick! Was the dark shadow that slid down the stairs reminding me?

I haven’t forgotten you Dark Angel, Herald of Death! Our story isn’t finished yet.

 

Dead of July – Germany 1982

 

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