Darkness,silent,ebony,velveteen,soft as a lover’s kiss.I awake slowly,cast my gaze upon this silken nothingness,finding some relief within,aware of little else other than the absence of sound around me.I feel soft folds of cloth at my fingers,the soft caress of my hair against my cheek;perhaps this darkness has sharpened my awareness more than normal.
The clock’s red dial informs me it is twelve past noon,although the room beyond the velveteen curtain is nearly as dark as night itself.I don’t like daylight,I never have,it seems so unnaturally bright,so..bare and open,if you will.There is a single mirror in my room,a gilt thing nearly as tall as I am,old but beautifully polished until it almost seems new;it is here i start my daily routine,a quick look at myself and then out into that brightness,among the people I both love and loathe at the same time.
I live in a simple gray building,unremarkable from the outside,save for a small black plaque denoting it as a ‘historical’building in the more run down part of town,and most people walk by me without a second look.
When trying,I can appear plain,a simple dark haired girl with gray eyes in a plain shirt and jeans,no jewelry,makeup,but there are times when who I am comes out and the eyes follow me as I go past.It is not flattering nor welcome,I have spent many years trying not to draw that kind of attention.
It is then that the hunger returns,the dreams return again,and I go back to the velveteen curtains,to reclaim myself,to face Her.Today I am preoccupied with something,and my hands are full of books on herbs and flowers.It is my turn at the library;I go there to escape into fact,into the world of catalogs and lists and the safety of computer files.
Today I am plain,my hair braided softly in a ribbon,my clothing nondescript and suited for the job.So lost in thought am I that I don’t see the form coming at me until it is too late.We collide,the form and I,and I taste the shock of impact,the musk of man,and She knows it.He picks himself,and me off the sidewalk with an apologetic grin,gathering my books up rather clumsily in the process.
He is young,as am I,and we lock gazes for an instant.There is an animal look to his eyes that tells me She is there,and I sigh inwardly.It has begun,and She-I-will be inseperable til it is finished.I hear him ask my name,hear myself reply automatically’lillith’,note the funny look he gives me.
We enjoy coffee that evening,light conversation,all the normal things one does on a’first date’,although he didn’t call it that,and I noticed with anticipation the sky was beginning to darken.
The night was always my favorite time,had been since I was young.It wasn’t until I was much older that She came to know me,and I her.Its when the hunger began.
We are walking hand in hand in my favorite park,a desolate,windy park lined with old trees and even older architecture,a place I knew well.A favorite haunt,for lack of better term.He spotted an acient wooden bench,suggested we sit with a gallant wave of the hand,which i agreed to;I had intended this all along.
My nerves were singing so loudly im sure he could hear them,but he plopped down on the bench,making room for me to sit.I settled down beside him,demurely,and in one fluid movement,we were together.At the peak of passion,She arose,as was the way it was.
I heard the whir of wings,the cry of triumph and of pain.I was at a distance now,when I looked up,I was alone on the bench,a small,nondescript pile of rags at my feet tossing gently here and there in the breeze.I was no longer hungry,just very very tired.
I folded my wings,got up with a small sigh,stretched,checking the ground for anything left over that might indicate someone other than myself might have been here,found only a small book.I pocketed this and went on my way,walking through the park,away,alone again..