Lady Mary was sitting in the drawing-room alone, looking out of the window onto the lush and expansive gardens of the Farnport Estate, waiting for the sun to set.
It was quiet. The only sound to fill the air was the gentle clatter of the silver cross necklace as it twisted around her fingers, knocking against her brandy glass. She rarely wore the necklace, but as the orange glow of the sun fell and the pale full moon rose, she knew she’d need it. The familiar warm smell of apricots helped to calm her in these last moments before the cold darkness of the night had fully taken hold; her Father loved this brandy. Looking at the half empty bottle beside her, she vowed she would get the chance to finish it…
The wolf would not claim another victim. Not tonight.
By Taylor Thompson.
A very short piece I wrote a sensory overload short story competition.