Short Story Sunday: Warlock Woods

Tangled Tales

August woke to an empty bed. Essie was already up and out. She’d taken the fur. He knew where she’d gone.

He put his hand over the tea kettle to boil the water then poured it into the French Press. Taking two cups of coffee, he took a short stroll to the lake behind the cabin. The woods were loud with the sounds of birds. It was the first day of October. The birds knew. He was also well aware of the day. The month of Halloween had started.

On the shore of the lake was a pair of pink and black flip flops, and a pink terry cloth robe. August hear the sound of a loud splash and saw the shape of a seal jumping in the water. Damn she was cute with her slick black fur and dark dog like eyes.

His own dogs, Belle the German Shepard, and Jack a dog of unknown parentage, tagged along, playing tug of war with a large stick. They gave friendly shout out barks to the seal. The seal flapped her tail on the water.

“I have coffee,” yelled August.

The seal went under. A few seconds later a naked woman, with plenty of curves, and a smile that warmed his soul on the cold fall morning, came walking out of the water with a dark wet seal pelt over her left arm.

“Thanks Gus,” she said as she pulled on the robe, slipped on the flip flops, then took one of the hot cups, and gave August a quick cold kiss on his lips.

“You’re welcome Essie darling. How was your swim?”

“Fantastic. Thanks for inviting me up for the weekend. I absolutely love it up here.”

August was glad his Selkie friend came with him. Actually she was more than a friend. She was his lover, his confidant, and a true kindred spirit.

Back at the cabin they made love, then moved it to the shower. After they got dressed they headed up the road to the small Gold Rush era town for breakfast, and then wine tasting at the local vineyards. It was a perfect weekend for an odd an imperfect couple.

To everyone else they looked like an attractive couple on the edge of middle age. Nobody knew they were a Warlock and a Selkie, centuries old, trying to keep things alright in a less than perfect world.

“Glad you had me up now,” said Essie. “Are you still loaning your cabin to the Werewolves when the moon is full.”

“They’ll be up on the 18th,” said August. “It’s just easier for them up here than in the city. You know how it is.”

“I know,” said Essie, taking his hand.

That night they sat under the stars by an outdoor fire pit sharing a bottle of Zinfandel. She was beautiful with her dark skin, black hair, and deep black eyes. He was pale, with his thick silver hair that almost reached his shoulders and dark blue eyes. They never mentioned their differences, but celebrated their uniqueness and their centuries long friendship.

The oak and pine woods of the Sierra foothills were quiet in the dark autumn night. October had come. It was a busy time. But for one more night he could be quiet with her, and lost in her, in every way.

~ end

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Short Story Sunday is a regular feature on Vampiremaman.com

Each Sunday morning I write a story (this week is a new one) or post a previously written story. Ocassionally I post stories from guest authors. Thank you for dropping by.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

 

 

 

Under the Stars in the Beauty of Everything

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I have no story today because I was up in the hills hiking in places where a zillion stars can still be seen out at night.

My feet were so dirty in my sandals (Waterproof Tevas) that Tellias commented that I looked like I was walking in biblical times. He should know. He was there in biblical times as a citizen of the Roman Empire. A unique being who could tell fortunes and create all kinds of magic.

Nights were cold and quiet. Days were cool and quiet.

As we drove up there through the small, teeny tiny old Gold Rush era towns I thought of the times when thousands and thousands of people were up in those hills trying to find their fortune. Now they have another kind of fortune (not withstanding all of the pot growers on National Forest land).

It takes a different kind of person to live in the small isolated towns that are still mostly populated by buildings that were built before the Civil War. I know, if you live in the East that isn’t such a big deal, but here it is a really big deal.

The old brick, stone, and wood structures bring back memories and spark the imagination.

Relaxing at camp after a long walk along the Pacific Crest Trail.

Relaxing at camp after a long walk along the Pacific Crest Trail.

Then there are the woods, and the pitch black darkness of a mountain night. As my husband Teddy and I took a romantic walk under the trees and zillion stars he said, “This is my church.”

We looked at the stars and speculated on who was out there, far far away, looking at our obscure little star, out in the boondocks of the Milky Way. They’re out there. They’re like us. They’re walking under the stars, arm in arm, stealing kisses, taking about the beauty of the universe, and wondering who we are.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

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