The Siren

Perhaps…maybe…one never knew…

Zach shoved the tie back into his pocket and strode forward up the three steps to his front door. He raised his hand to knock, but the door flew open before his knuckles touched the wood.

And there stood Grace wearing one of his shirts and not much else, and no woman in the history of the world had ever looked so beautiful standing in a doorway.

“Hi, Gracie.”

Grace grinned at him.

“Hi, George.”

* * *

Nora awoke and knew neither the time nor the place. She knew only that she had slept for a long time and that wherever she was, she wasn’t afraid.

“Where am I?” she asked, trying to orient herself. She only knew this was not her bed, not her usual darkness.

But it was a familiar darkness. She remembered this darkness and knew it remembered her. She inhaled the scent of hardwood so clean and comforting, savored the soft sheets wrapped around her naked body. The bed that held her now had held her before.

She saw a square of white break through the blackness, felt the bed shift with a familiar weight.

“I’m here, little one,” came a voice made for coaxing secrets from the heart. “Sleep now. We’ll talk when it’s time.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, now knowing where she was. She surrendered to sleep again.

The most familiar darkness…her darkness…she was home.