There is no malice held in deepest evening, no hate in midnight’s shroud, both are clear of day’s impurities, as am I. With only the moon to light my way, I saunter down silver pathways admiring the night flowers, the moon folk, all the things you have never seen. I smile at a passing owl, say ‘Good evening’ to a mole. None look away. None are repulsed by my insipid, alabaster skin. I am one of them, and they are one with me. This is how it should be. This is what I wish.
I hear it in the distance, a groan as of the night convulsing. My friends slip away into holes and burrows, others curl up into the nothingness of oblivion. This disturbs me. I am disturbed. I wait.
The sound is now accompanied by two blaring spotlights angling over the outlying city suburbs like a Cheshire Cat grown rabid. It hurts my eyes this evil light, confuses and surprises in equal measure. I wait.
They do nothing to hide their approach, these passengers in my world. They scream and bawl destroying the peace of my beautiful midnight tearing down the street at a hundred miles an hour. I wait.
They are almost here. I know they see me as they swerve at the last moment. I did not expect this; it matters not. I thrust forward grabbing the car door; my steel is stronger than its. Talons pierce the metal, the car brought to a sudden halt its driver thrown threw the windscreen, (idiot should’ve worn his belt). His screeches of pain hurt my ears, force a tremble at this daytime monstrosity roiling before me. I take a deep, unnecessary breath, regain my composure and sneer.
Now, I cannot wait. He is rendered silent. I am rendered full.
The night’s blissful peace restored, I meander away as though nothing untoward has really happened. In truth, it has not.
The End for Tonight