Home

The front door creaks open soundlessly.
A draft of midnight air
rushes in after her
as she steps inside.
The door closes on the hungry night
with a thud.

Floorboards creak
under human footsteps.
Keys jangle
as they hit the table.
I hear her coat
phwoomf to the floor.
A chair
scrapes against the wood
scratching against the grain.
The cushions sigh
as she slumps into the chair.
The cigarette lighter clicks.
Smoke
drifts through the air as she exhales.
Then quietly
she whispers;
"I'm home."

The curtains rustle around my head
as I sit up in my bed.
The cold moonlight
streaks across my face
through the gaps in the curtain.
The winter air tickles my nose
stabbing at my cheeks with icy claws.
My feet hit the floor silently
tiptoeing to the door.

A lamp flickers on and flickers out.
For a brief moment
the door frame is illuminated in golden light
before the darkness creeps back around it.
The lighter clicks again
and the warm light returns like a halo.
The scent of kerosene
mingles with the cigarette smoke in the air.
I hear her stand up.
She heads to the kitchen
the light following like a stray dog.
She fills a cup of water
from the icy pitcher on the bench
and returns to the table.

I press my eye against the keyhole.
She looks exhausted.
Depleted.
Empty.
I want to ask her what happened
-what was going to happen-
but I don't.
My voice stays silent.

The embers of her cigarette
flake away.
Ash sinks to the ground
crumbling to dust.
The lamp has nearly burnt out
by the time she moves.
The chair squeaks when she stands up.
The lantern casts dark hollows
under her eyes.
She cups the flame with her hands
and it withers and dies.
The halo fades from the room.
The dark steals my vision and
I can no longer see through the keyhole.

Sinking down against the door
I press my face to the wood
feeling for any residual heat;
any residual life.
The scent of cigarette smoke
lingers in the air.
I inhale it,
trying to keep some of her with me.

The moonlight ignites my curtains
with icy heat.
The shadows dance above my bed
beckoning me to join their party.
I decline.
The shadows invade my head
blurring my vision.
I shake my head
trying to clear my thoughts.
The shadows infect my throat
clutching at my lungs with long fingers.
I cough.
The soot spills from my mouth
flooding across the floor.
Exhaustion drags me down.
I shut my eyes.
The shadows whisper in my ears;
too quiet to understand
too loud to block out.
The soot is suffocating.
Coughing and spluttering
they pull me
down,
down,
down.
My head feels numb.
I'm drowning in the static.
The shadows have won.

When I woke,
she was already gone.