The Sunday Whirl

The moon had been full the night before. Sun light glinted through the shards of glass left in my broken window. It shattered when he burst through, untethered from the shed. I absentmindedly touched the scar he left on me the first time, and I’d risen to see damage to my room. By rights I should have been petrified by his presence, but it was if he recognized my compassion and quickly retreated to the shed. There were no actual words of comfort from either of us, but he sensed I felt his pain. The nightmares he suffered, being lost and afraid when in the human world could never be explained.

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Wordle 641