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Dinner Guest

The fork hovered just below his lips, something felt off. A tapping from somewhere slipped through the normally silent home. Pushing away his meal of peas and lamb the man stared forward unblinking, seemingly at nothing. The candelabra in the center of the table trembled guiltily under his gaze, its fearful light dancing over the china white tablecloth. Tracing a rough finger over the painted silverware the man felt the tapping cease.

  A pounding at the door raised him to his feet, shoving his chair back to cower in the shadows of the dining room. Charging for the door his feet shook the floor underneath, though it dared not squeak and upset its master. Placing his hands against the door, he pressed an eye to the peephole, looking out on a blurred scene that gave nothing more away besides the intruder was still outside.

   Yanking the door back, he stared down at the unimposing sight with a sneer. She was dripping wet from the cold rain, water raced down her forehead to reach her half shut eyes, both a pulsating purple color framed with blue. The girl clutched herself, shaking from chills and pain, lips so swollen from beatings he couldn’t even make out her words. What made it all the more perfect was the glitter adorned dress she wore, torn at the sleeves and hem she resembled a disco tech cave woman. She was pleading with him, her indigo hands clasped together in prayer.

  Smiling almost warmly the man gently caressed her head, the first soothing touch she had felt. Running his hands through her hair, he grabbed her suddenly and brought her ugly face to his,

   “What are you doing out of your cage?”






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