Shadow’s Night

The dead of the night. The night of the dead. Frankie’s passes by Julie’s and is mesmerized by her curves, smooth and shapely. She appears tall, much taller than Frankie’s, but he doesn’t mind. Height does not matter to him. And although shapes are not permanent, he does have his preferences.

The night grows darker as the clouds slide curtains over the moon, much to his delight. He has always been a night body, lurking behind the dark crevices and the shade of alleys – far from the bustle and captivity of the lit streets.

He moves from wall to wall, squeezing past the bystanders as he tries to reach Julie’s. In these busy streets, a single moment of hesitation is enough to lose her. And with each passing day, she would move further and further away. He knows that this might be his one chance.

Although he pursues, this pursuit is not the norm. His kind doesn’t go around asking for dates, flirting, and asking for addresses. They fall to the fate of their masters. Their master’s choice is their choice. Frankie, however, has not been lucky despite his many attempts at love. And at times, he has not been lucky due to his attempts at it.

Why should Frankie’s be tied down to the failures of his master? He is tied down to him in every meaning of the word as it is.

Dawn is quickly approaching. His master Frankie will soon arise from slumber, switch on the lights, and Frankie’s will have to be there. He’ll be there throughout his day, moving as he moves, responding to his beck and call, perched under the shade from the sun.

But on some nights, he doesn’t show up. As Frankie rolls from bed and heads to the loo like a zombie, eyes shut, he doesn’t notice his absence.

Shadows are bound by rules. They stick with their masters, never to leave them nor forsake them to death’s snatch.

And so he pursues Julie’s, for the chances of getting a partner, going by his master’s non-existent love-life, are slim.

Photo by Martino Pietropoli on Unsplash

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