No time for shadows

He is still not sure.

Whether she is real, or a figment of his imagination.

She came to him when August was rich and scented and heavy . A rare, almond-eyed beauty with raven black hair and perfect scarlet-painted lips. Her body was sensual, soft, deliciously curved. Her innocence was breathtaking.

She held out her hands and said ‘please teach me’.

Except that now he is uncertain if those were her words. Or just the sound of the late summer breeze rustling in the green leaves.

The rain fell instead.

It is now almost winter. She still ghosts his days with uncertainty. She haunts him. She utters promises, seeks forgiveness, offers everything.

But she yields him nothing.

She vanishes the moment he tests the air around her with purpose.

Yet perhaps she is not there at all.

He shrugs his shoulders. In this moment he decides that she is but a creature of myth and legend. A wild-eyed, seductive spirit sent to steal his sleep. Only a shadow.

He has no time for shadows.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photo stolen from Pathogens (Melissa)