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Weekly Contest #235
The clock struck half past twelve. Serenade Primrose pulled herself out of a deep sleep. She dragged herself out of bed and lingered by her window, gazing at the moon, full bellied, like her. But she, unlike her beloved moon, had lost her glow; a heavy shadow haunted her once bright face. Serenade brushed a clump of red hair from her gray and stormy eyes stripped of their blue color. Her eyebrows knit into a knot on her forehead and she took a sharp breath in; the time has come. She sauntered to her front door and slipped on her silk robe o...
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