50 Word Stories: The Insomniac

Her eyes veined red, wide with the mania only insomniacs know, she stumbles through another hazy morning. A pale vampire, a demoness of the dark, she snarls in a rabid baring of incisors. I back away.
"Morning, love," I try.
"Where's my coffee?"
I open the curtains, whilst I can.

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