The Moonlit Window

        Standing at the door to the third story bedroom, Joseph Marshall looked at his watch. At 9:06, he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and collected his thoughts. Then silently extinguished the lantern before sitting it on the floor, then slow and quiet the ageing man opened the door to the third story bedroom.

        Within that room a small desk sat near the unlit fireplace. It's once deep brown color now faded to a weathered gold hue. The bed was made, white covers tucked tight beneath the mattress. Memories of that bed flashed again in his mind like it did every night, yet he could never bring himself to sleep there. Standing in front of the window was Joseph's wife, Charlotte Marshall. She faced away from Joseph, looking outward through the old window, the moon hung low in the sky visible even to man at the door. Her wavy black hair hung down past her shoulders. It was soft, and he wondered if she spent all day combing it. There was no breeze in that room, but her gown moved slightly as if it were blown by the wind from outside that window.

        As he made his way to the armchair in the corner, he noticed again how her pale skin glowed in this light. Taking his seat, the moon lifted higher over the horizon, casting shadows upon the floor. And as the shadows began to dance, she danced as well. Her arms slowly swinging from side to side. Her feet moving along with her rhythm. No song was heard by Joseph, he wondered if some song had been pulled from an unknown dimension, that only played for her.

         Joseph thought about saying something to the woman he loved but knew he wouldn't know what to say. He just sat watching this woman bathed in moonlight sway back and forth, ever so often spinning. When she tilted her head back, he saw her eyes, they were grey, shining only when she faced the window. She never looked directly at him, but he would try to pay attention to them when he could.

        He lost himself and his idea of time as he watched her body glide like some pale ballet. Her skin was pale, but in the sight of the full moon that hung outside, she seemed to glow. The majestic flow she effortlessly conjured began to slow, the dancing that was beautifully cast against the window had turned into only slight movements. After a few minutes, the slow motion stopped, then only looked out at the moon as it began to move over the house and out of view.

       Her glow began to fade, and Joseph looked at his watch, it was 12:19. The moon was only moments from being unviewable from his third story window. He stood, wondering again if this was a good night to say something to his wife. But the moment past and Charlotte had faded entirely from the room. No shadow from outside was showing, only the lonely man. So, he made his way back to the door, as he opened it, the widower Joseph Marshall looked back to the window again and said, "I will see you again tomorrow my love." before leaving the room on the third floor.