Though the night was clouded the light of the moon came in at the window.
Janet couldn’t sleep.
Just as she’d start to nod off, every muscle in her body would close up.
When the red numbers on her alarm clock burned 3:15 she gave up and went to get a glass of water.
The air and the hard wood of the floor were chilly.
The small, spiteful heads of the floor nails bit at her soles.
The moon was full and very low in the sky, underneath the clouds.
She sat in the close arc of the dormer window and stared across at it.
The mouth of the moon was pursed, as though to ask a question.
The freeway ran obliquely away three blocks to the north.
At three in the morning it was deserted.
She’d never seen it so empty.
She shivered and hugged herself.
“It’s so lonely,” she told the moon. “Everyone’s gone and left me behind.”
The floor creaked behind her.
Blue copper moonlight washed across her back and out the dormer window.
Strong fingers curled into her hair, tipped her head back until her throat was long and smooth.
Every muscle in her body closed up, like a fist.