Night Owls

Jerry glanced down at the photograph in his hand, then back up again at the woman sitting alone at the back of the cafe.

Hands clasped and pressed down onto the tabletop beside an untouched mug of coffee, the woman gazed straight without seeming to see. Her lips alone showed signs of movement, even if ever so slight - as if they were involuntarily giving form to her thoughts

All at once a blinding light coursed through the space. Jerry and the woman froze. And then a creature appeared, seemingly from the air itself.

Jerry had sought it out - so long, drawn towards this moment. He knew the need and the path - winding thought it was - without knowing how. The photograph came to him and then he knew: the thing inside had led him to her. “The gate is human, my God - my God.”