Sleep

She drifted in through the folds of the curtains, a handbag jingling at her side, swaying with movement and the wind. She smirked to herself, gliding over the bed, looking down over the sleeping figures. A man curling his arm around a woman, his chest to her back, his chin, his lips resting on her shoulders. They were breathing so easily, so quietly together.

Sleep reached into her bag, iridescent, though with the low moonlight, only a pale glow emanated from her skin. Or what would be considered her skin. She frowned, bringing it to her face, cold eyes surveying the colors, trying to remember when it was human, if it was ever human. She returned her hand to her bag, dipping slim fingers into the brown pouch. White pearlesque sand pouring through her fingers, falling like rain onto the sleeping lovers below her. She sprinkled it gently over the bed, the grains disappearing into their skin, their sheets. She floated down, bearing down close over the man, taking in his smell.

Her eyes glowed red as she inhaled his scent, taking a hand, curving it over his cheek. She pulled back startled, as if burned by fire, when he turned over, away from his lover, but settled back down next to him. She ran finger down his forearm, watching as his skin reacted to her touch, the hairs on his arm rising. She drifted over him, bringing her cold face to his, kissing his warm lips with her icy ones. As she kissed him, she sprinkled more white sand over him, his breaths becoming slow and deep, calm and content. She took her lips from his own, sorry for leaving the warmth he radiated, lovingly running a hand over his cheeks, through his hair.

She peeked over the man’s shoulder, eyes returning to their normal black, fierce and calculating. She moved over him, resting on his lover’s shoulder, her own ghostly body rigid. She drifted onto the other side of the woman, onto the ground alongside the bed, placing her hands under her chin, watching the woman sleep peacefully. Her eyes glowed, darker than black, eerie, from the worlds beyond. Her body transformed into a more solid force, instead of visible air, she became like water contained. Her hair turned black, conforming to the current color of her eyes.

Sleep opened her coat, reaching far deep inside it, and pulled out the tiniest of bags. It was smaller than the palm of her hand, the velvet shading drifting from red to black, depending on the moonlight. She opened the pouch, and poured a very fine black dust into her pale palm. She pinched a small amount between her thumb and finger and scattered it over the woman’s face. The woman’s breathing stopped momentarily, her face scrunched, her hands gripping the sheets tightly. Sleep watched, quietly, maliciously, waiting.

Slowly, tears fell from the woman’s face as she began to weep in her dreams. 

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