Posted in Stories, Uncategorized

Sometimes the Night Calls

I can tell by the way the wind is blowing that something is on the way.

I’m drawn to the window.  Pulling aside the curtain, the room is bathed in soft moonlight.  I open the window to the cool summer night.  The wind takes my breath as it caresses my face.  There is a scent of something unknown in the air.

I’m agitated.  It’s like I have an itch, but it’s under my skin and I can’t get to it.   I rub my arms chasing away a shiver.

Although chilled, I linger.  I need to drink in the night, to experience it, to be part of it.  Sometimes the night calls me.

I breath deeply and another fragrance comes to me.  This scent I know.  This scent is welcome.  I smile; remembering.

I turn from the window and cross the room to the bed.  My gown falls to the floor and I lay naked on the cool sheets.  The wait won’t be long now.  He’ll be here soon.

The scent is now in the room, surrounding me; washing over me.  The raw scent of earth and copper.  His scent.  I close my eyes, breathing deeply.

When I open my eyes, they meet his gaze as he walks toward me.  I turn from him, baring my flesh, waiting for the sweet sting of immortality.

Copyright (C) 2018 Penny Wilson


Penny Wilson is a freelance writer who writes in several genres. She has written articles for WOW Women on Writing. Her poetry has been published in online journals, such as Ariel Chart, Spill Words Press and the Poppy Road Review. Penny is a member of the Austin Poetry Society. Her poetry has been featured in the publication America's Emerging Poets 2018 & 2019 by Z Publishing, Poets Quarterly and Dual Coast Magazine published by Prolific Press. You can find more of her writings on her blog at and follow her on Twitter @pennywilson123.

20 thoughts on “Sometimes the Night Calls

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