Tansy Undercrypt
Author, Illustrator, Purveyor of Doom & Whimsy

Grace

March 17th 2017 in Microfiction

They watched him mesmerize the girl, her eyes growing wide and then soft and unfocused. He leaned in tenderly to put his lips against her throat. “You see that my hands rest gently on her shoulders, neither clutching nor dragging her closer to me,” Dracula said aloud. “I do not need her body to balance mine; I am like a breath of air around her.” “Fuuuuuuuuuck,” Clem whispered. “I’m like a coughing fit to mine. How does he DO IT?” “Roughly a thousand years of practice,” Jamie said, sighing heavily. “Or a natural grace that the tragically awkward will never understand,” Andrea added smiling. They didn’t turn to look at her.


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