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Picture Perfect
Dalton The power is still out an hour later. I lean my weight against the window sill, rain seeping through the screen as I take a drag from my cigarette and look at the wind-beaten marsh beyond the boundary of the backyard. The storm is finally moving away, the dark clouds funneling in the distance as the storm nears the Gulf. What little moonlight there is to be had illuminates the room in pale silver. Dressed in only my sweatpants, the cool, stormy air brushes over my naked chest as I keep my eyes on the cemetery in the distance. Hearing Layla’s anguished screams for help earlier tonight rocked me to my core, and there’s nothing I can do to ease her fear now. No, this has gone too far. This place has already sunk its teeth into her flesh, and there’s no escape now--for either of us
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