Screaming and lifting my sword I rushed at the demon before me, with sweat in my eyes and blood in my mouth. The silver of my blade shone in the dancing moonlight, lighting my way forward. The demon was sized like an elephant, and roared back at me as my serrated blade glided through its flesh, again and again, until there was nothing but the ringing in my ears. With the last of my strength I plunged the sword deep into the monster’s body, pushing, pushing…. Until I could take no more and fell, bloodless, into the cold nightly abyss.
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The sun pierced through the gaps in the bamboo blinds across our bedroom window. Though I was already on the precipice between the waking and the sleeping world, I allowed myself the leisured pleasure of basking in the quiet contemplation that came only from lying alongside the slight but warm curves of my dear Marguerite.
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