buzz and squeal

169 08 August 21st 2016

My favourite haunt; all stopped here, under the light, to peer into the grim river, guess their bearings, steal a kiss. I merely hide, trying to hold the buzz and squeal of excitement inside til that perfect moment.

Exposed flesh – curve of her neck, stubble on his cheek, sockless ankle, hat-less head. All exposed, all waiting. I can smell the blood pulsating just below the surface, in wide-rivered arteries, and veined creeks and streams.

Then I hunt. My prey unaware I stalk until the sting of my blade, the first driplet of blood, the exquisite pain of . . .

Smack. Splat. “Damn mosquitoes. Something wicked this time of the year.”

For Sunday Photo Fiction, August 21, 2016.

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17 thoughts on “buzz and squeal

  1. Like this a lot. I suppose the lovers had never thought, a vampire is waiting to lunch on them. But who would have thought Vampires hate mosquito just as humans do. So who’s the more frightening blood sucker? Great write!

    Like

  2. wildchild47 says:

    Oh how the sqeeters are beyond vampiric this year!

    great write this – love the build up and tension – the breaking point is priceless! ;)

    Like

the time has come, the walrus said, to talk of many things . . .

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