a midsummer nightmare

on cold nights they sit huddled up, usually in pairs, around a bonfire. the midsummer chill invites them closer to the incandescence of the fiery glow; nonetheless, most are content with consensually sharing their bodies’ warmth within the teasing embrace of the lurking shadows.

the fire choreographs wildly in the center stage set by its spectators, the wind egging it on to put on a show. embers crumble and sparks are let loose, spiraling free as backup dancers. scattered among those gathered, puckered lips meet and hands are kept everywhere but to their owners’ selves, accompanied by not-so-innocent giggles.

a sudden shrill scream rudely interjects the unfolding play of events – a soliloquy, as though the midsummer night had finally declared its true intent , a cruel one at that.

the sound of squelching flesh is carried over from a distance by the breeze blowing in their direction. they’re sickly serenaded by the crunching of bones and the suckling of marrow. everyone freezes in their position save for the dancing fire oblivious to its sudden ineffectiveness.

a loud silence ensues.

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