I tried to speak, but couldn’t. They’d taken that from me, just as they’d taken what life I had left. Whatever remained was slipping from me now, sneaking away like a thief. But in my mind, I could still see Julia in that slowly rolling fog, so beautiful there, just beyond my reach…
I whispered to her in my mind, and she smiled at me the way no one else ever could. I knew then that she could hear me.
If I never know peace, if I never again feel the touch of your hand, the warmth of your breath or the weight of your body against mine, let me know at least that we existed in each other, that we lived and remembered and are remembered, just as we remember every bit of laughter, every sigh, every moment of joy and agony, every tear, every breath drawn, every drop of blood spilled, every kiss. Let us know and remember these things, and realize that in this world, if only for a moment, we mattered.
If you ask me how it all ended, I won’t answer. Not because I don’t want to but because I don’t know. Do any of us? Not really. Not totally. All I knew for sure was Julia had gone missing, and me with her, into the night, the darkness, the dreams and nightmares of the living and the dead, the awake and the sleeping. Maybe we were both on that same boat, riding the waves across an enormous ocean, and as the bow pierced the fog before us, we held each other and waited for what lay on the other side.
Old William, up to his old deviltry again…
Maybe I was lying in that tall grass, thinking of her as I bled to death.
I closed my eyes, perhaps in sleep.
Death’s counterfeit…
Or maybe I was right back in that rainy old city.
All those godforsaken souls…
Maybe I’d never left. Maybe I never could.
Darkness is a cage, child.
“Can you hear me?”
Light is that cage door swung open wide.
“Can you hear me?”
“Don’t fear the tempest, my love,” I said. “These are our dreams, our addictions.”
“Are you all right?”
“And in them, I am yours, and you are mine.”
Far from all the violence and darkness, horror and blood, and bathed instead in the warmth of a sun we could never know, I pulled Julia close and we kissed, gently and as if forever, our dreams now one.
On the dark and lonely streets of Babylon.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Greg F. Gifune is a best-selling, internationally published author of several acclaimed novels, novellas and two short-story collections. Called, “The best writer of horror and supernatural thrillers at work today” by New York Times best-selling author Christopher Rice, “One of the best writers of his generation” by both The Roswell Literary Review and author Brian Keene, and “Among the finest dark suspense writers of our time” by legendary best-selling author Ed Gorman, Greg’s work has been published all over the world, translated into several languages, received starred reviews from Publishers Weekly, Library Journal, Kirkus and others, is consistently praised by readers and critics alike, and has garnered attention from Hollywood.
His novel The Bleeding Season, originally published in 2003, has been hailed as a classic in the genre and is considered to be one of the best modern horror/thriller novels of all time.
He resides in Massachusetts with his wife Carol, a bevy of cats and two dogs, Dozer and Bella. He can be reached online at [email protected] or on Facebook and Twitter. For more information on Greg and his work visit his official website at www.gregfgifune.com.
ABOUT THE PUBLISHER
DarkFuse is a leading independent publisher of modern fiction in the horror, suspense and thriller genres. As an independent company, it is focused on bringing to the masses the highest quality dark fiction, published as collectible limited hardcover, paperback and eBook editions.
To discover more titles published by DarkFuse, please visit its official site at www.darkfuse.com.
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