In the Light of the Moon
by C. A. Verstraete
The floor creaked as she shuffled to the window. Eyes narrowed, she peered at the night sky in anticipation.
His dark eyes gazed back at hers in silent mockery. That bothered Henrietta, a woman whose name had been washed away by the Moon Man's pale glow.
Such a demanding suitor, he. He called at night, his eerie light piercing, and then banishing, her sleep. Yet she basked in his attention, soaking up his rays, listening to lunar litanies that went unheard by others.
Days and nights passed as she covered the wall calendar with giant red X's. The mewling cries in the shadows grew softer.
The room was hushed as she marked off the last box on the calendar. She went to the window and leaned on the sill, her tattered nightgown making a soft swish against her legs. She looked up, her face awash in his reflection, his face aglow with an inner light.
Again, he called to her; again, she listened.
Moonbeams glistened off the knife's silver blade as she plunged it deep into her breast. With her final breath, she pulled the small basket closer and stared at the tiny, misshapen child within. In the moon's blue light, the face that she saw in the babe's skeletal face was his.
[Christine Verstraete has had short fiction published in Futures Mysterious Anthology, Orchard Press Mysteries, Flashshot and coming in Mouth Full of Bullets and Welcome to Devil's Gulch.]