A Moonlit Waltz
She’s late — again!Turning to the window, I focus my spyglasses on the house on the hilltop and mark my target. I zoom in on candlelight at the patio’s edge…A moth flits and retreats to the waning and advance of the hot flashes, its midnight dance. She swoops closer, the flame’s brightness an irresistible beckoning, and there’s a flash and a tinge of smoke. Perpetually returning, the moth gives in to the unrelenting lure, feeding the flame with yet another flash and flickering. It’s a brief...
Exhibitionism