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Friday, July 20, 2007 Dancing with the DevilIt was a cold night. She lit a fire. The dance of bright red flames attracted a curious moth. They intrigued him. He came. He bowed and offered his hand. She took it. He enveloped her freezing frame in his delicious warmth. She closed her unseeing eyes. He swept her onto the moonlit ground. Their bodies swayed together to the trance-like tune. The moth danced nearer to the alluring fire. Mesmerised by its exuberant vigour. Deaf to the hiss and crackle by angry red tongues of flames. He spoke with charm. Of the many wonders she could experience. If only she would. To belong, to be wanted, to be loved. All these she could receive. If only she would. Sweet promises to fulfil her desires. Luring dreams of all that she could be. If only she would. Dark whispers of temptation swirled around. Like the smouldering flames beneath his hungry eyes. Sending thrills and shivers of excitement through her. Bewitched by the burning fiery ball. The moth dived right into the angry red tongues of flames. Devoured amidst the hiss and crackle. She opened her unseeing eyes. Not understanding why he chose her. Uncertain if she would. Laughter rumbled low in his throat. He gave her one last twirl. He swore he would return to claim her. Before he let her go. The music ceased. The dance stopped. The clouds engulfed the moon. She blinked. He vanished. All was still. The night was cold.
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