Nothing To Howl At

 

 

"So, some little things change, Vanessa. You're older, too. You're still...."

"Harold, I'm a succubus. I don't get old. My job is to seduce good guys and, these days, good girls to do evil things and get them damned for them. It's an endless act that I'm good at. And it's in my job description that I don't get old. I'm forever."

"And I'm not?" The impact of what she was saying was beginning to creep through my delusions.

"No, Harold, you're not. You can see it happening every full moon. Worse every full moon. You're practically bald in the full moon. No furry handfuls of hair. Almost down to the skin. Yuk! And that squeak you call a howl. You used to announce terror in the night, but, now,......"





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This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)