by Dawn Knox
black coffee - bitter and dark
Standing in the brightness, I know my figure casts a shadow behind me. The absence of light hides something darker within its depths, for there, beneath my shadow, the Hidden One awaits. Childishly, I refuse to acknowledge him; my eyes fix on the light and my heart hopes for deliverance. But the brush of wings against my back, vile whisperings in my ears and the stench of his breath enshrouding me, announce his evil presence. My desperate struggles to reach the light are futile, and in despair, I recognise that slowly, inexorably, the Angel of Darkness is reeling me in.