In The Pale Moonlight

Becca could see him out of the corner of her eye. Moving to the music with all the style and grace of an angel. But she knew better. The poor girl with the pigtails and lustful green eyes, however, was blind to the devil, cloaked in his cheeky, effortless hipness. Becca shuddered at the memories. The pain, the humiliation. The guilt. As the music stopped and the two made their way to the bar, Becca approached from behind, grabbing the devil by the wrist, causing the pills in his hand to fall uselessly on the floor.

“Remember me?” she said.

Copyright (c) 2021 by Christian E. Hallaway