Goodnight

Calling to you.

Steal a fleeting glance through the windowpane, all that acts as a barrier between you and the hungry tendrils of the night.

            You sit. Beside you, a fire flickers, casting a ruddy light that steeps your cheekbones in velvet shadow. In front of you, is a bookshelf - filled with novels in all shapes and sizes, radiant covers melting to monochrome as the sun bleeds away.

            Your eyes, without your permission, dart in their sockets - catching an owl swoop by your window. Elegant, bruise-purple sky is visible only through the stark ink of the tree-branches, that are twitching, twitching like the fire-shadows dancing around you. Clouds murmur in to occlude the naked moon in all its glory, strings of cream swelling to fat blooming flowers of white, ever-moving, inexorable.

            You wonder. That flash of crimson - a russet fox, slinking? That hint of movement in the leaves - a bird, slumbering, shifting? And that gleam of gold - a white wolf, grinning? You don't know.

            The window is open, a tantalising scent of freedom streaming through the gap like a nocuous gas - engulfing you, wrapping you, consuming you. Pervasive, it is everywhere around you all at once, endless.

            Your feet hit the ground with a crunch as branches snap, leaves crumple, insects burst. Your curtains snap, somewhere high above you - and then the night has reclaimed you.

Author's Note

Just a description piece for fun! :)