Grave Dancer A Glaidator's Pen Friday Flash

It was dark in the chapel, a new moon shed no light in the old abandoned building He sat on a pew moved under a window watching, waiting. Tonight he was prepared with camera, recorder, extra batteries, and a thermos of hot coffee to combat the chill of the night.
His hands wrapped around the tin cup to absorb the heat as he took a long sip. It was almost time, almost. He was afraid they wouldn’t come, he wouldn’t see her again. That it had been all a figment of his drunken mind.
Every night si...