Grace Toma

Fortified

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Its disconsolate glow mirrored the glint in the eyes of the lone figure standing behind its low flame, darkness shifting and folding around him. As the moon ascended the starless sky, the irises behind his wire-rimmed spectacles turned aurulent in the light. Arms folded behind his back, the lifeless child a human crescent at his feet, he kept watch of the dark. Waiting.