S H I L O H (a short story)

| N I G H T T H R E E |

On the third night, the girl asked Shiloh for his name. It was weird. A foreign feeling to him.

At night Shiloh felt that he didn't have a name, it disappeared with the rest of him when the sun went down. Now he was merely a wandering soul. He was a nameless creature of the night, but of course he told her "My name is Shiloh" and she said he looked like a Shiloh.

He asked her name.

"Hensley." it was a short clipped reply, one he grew accustomed to. He knew it was because she was tired - she got more tired every time they met.

"My name is Hensley." and although Shiloh had never met a Hensley before, he said she looked like a Hensley.

•

"Where are we going?" they had finally left the old park bench and Shiloh walked briskly through a dense herd of trees, Hensley in tow.

"On an adventure." He didn't like the idea of giving away too much, he enjoyed the element of surprise.

"An adventure to where?"

"You said you didn't like the night, so I'm going to show you five reasons the night is wonderful. This..." he trailed off as he pushed past the thick bushes that blocked his path.

"...is reason number one." Hensley stopped behind him and stared. They were on a cliff.

The whole scenery screamed cliché, but Hensley loved cliché. There they were overlooking the city, what seemed like thousands of twinkling lights down below.

"You can see lights and a good view during the day, but come on, you can only see lights like these and a view this great at night. That's gotta be worth something."

And Hensley agreed. It was worth something.

And for the first time in what seemed like forever, she wasn't so tired.