Heat of the Moment

The fire raged as Caroline stood near the curb in ripped and bloody clothing; leaning on the mailbox for support. Sirens blared in the distance and her mind went back to how this all started some 12 hours ago when…

she had that strange man over for dinner. They were enjoying their evening but she knew that he had a dark past and she wanted answers. “So now will you tell me what you do for a living?” “Sure thing, but do you smoke? I’d like to have a cigarette.” He pulled out a metal lighter.

“No, sorry. I don’t allow smoking in my home. You’re welcome to use the roof deck to smoke, though.” That’s how he found himself bundled up, on the roof, looking at the city from above, smoking a cig. “Filthy habit”, he said out loud.

All of a sudden, a girl was sitting beside him, nodding. "At least it helps, right? I mean, That's what you all think, right?" Her voice was soft, her white hair illuminating from the moon. Her skin, almost paper white and a knee-length black dress covered her. She peeked at him.

Their hands were close on the bench & he felt her pinky slide along his. It was like being touched by a feather. He took her hand in his, felt its gentle heat, hoped his clammy palm wasn't offensive. She did not let go. They sat like that until the night sky flushed with dawn.