A Nope In The Night, Paris, 1897

Genevieve crept down the stairs, searching for the sounds that woke her. The door to the study was ajar. Somebody had lit a fire; an act forbidden by the Lady of the house. Through the gap, she could see the flames twisting around each other, and a shadow crouched before them. She pushed the door open slightly further .
It was not a person at all. Human in shape only. With red crystalline skin, and branching antlers like a buck .
Fuck this, Genevieve thought, and she was running then, undoing the latch to the main entrance, and gone into the night.

Caoimhín is a writer from Cork, Ireland based in Edinburgh. Twitter: @Kevinjuly

Categories: Fiction

Daily Drunk

Shawn Berman runs The Daily Drunk. You can follow him on Twitter @Sbb_writer.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *