The Sylph

The old man sat in his wheelchair in an English garden, shivering in the moonlight.

“Please”, he whispered. Please come.”

A lissome hand touched his cheek. He looked up at an elfish face staring sadly at him.

“I thought you’d forgotten me,” he whispered.

“Never, my husband.”

She stayed until his last breath, weeping bitterly.

 

Michael Coady.

The Sylph is a post from: Adventure and Learning