on somber nights, the nights that come before High Spring rises

[Habernus]

My uncle recommended this place to me as he's always getting my emails regarding a story I'm working on. Here is some schmutz I found atop the bar the other night. I see there are so many writers in this forum and I think it fantastic! Cheers.

 

The fire spat and embers cracked, and when they did so the unheard melody of a somber night was thrown off beat.
“I’m alone now.” Padfoot thought to himself. His green eyes usually alite with the bloom of spring with
the flickering flame such youth could hold were darker now, having seen their first rise of the Winter
Moon. The den that held his upbringing was always one of comfort and peace, but no peace could be
found that night or comfort kept. He stood there in the deeper dark, darker than the ever darkening
den with its diminishing flame within the hearth it held. He stood where the true darkness dwelt, where
heartbreak was found and sorrow met. If you blinked you might miss him, and he might appear as a
lonely coat rack collecting dust, found in a museum as an old relic of a forgotten age. Some time had
passed- a few minutes? An hour maybe? The time it takes, or the time it took for one to do a thing they
need to do matters not, all that matters is that it happened.

Edited March 8, 2019 by Habernus