Turn The Page

The wind seems to scream outside my window, drawing my gaze. The clouds blowing across the moon cast strange shadows across the night-shrouded land beyond. I watch it for a moment, the fleeting silver consumed by the dark, before I admit to myself why I’m so eager for a distraction. The book lies heavy in my hands, resting on my lap as I sit in the old wooden chair in my shabby little cabin by the forest. That I should have come here alone on a night like this, seems the height of lunacy. I g...