Moonlight flooded the sky, only the brightest stars outshining it. The icy January wind bit deep into her bones. Once she’d been oblivious to temperature, even without her fur coat, but the past few winters had been hard. There were other compensations: her children, grandchildren, even the third and fourth generations. With age the pull of the moon lessened; in recent months she’d stayed at home in her rocking chair. Winter’s chill made the ensuing aches and pains all the worse, days of immobility for a single night’s exhilaration, though even then she wasn’t as quick and agile as she’d once been. She took a long look at the moon bright overhead. This time there would be no pain. She would have liked to smell spring again — new life, young and foolish prey — but wild things knew when it was time to steal away into the silent woods.
[Note: these ultra-short stories are all exactly 150 words. Telling a complete tale at a specific length is an interesting puzzle, a good warm-up exercise, a home for a single idea or image. I try not to fuss over them too much except for length, and often write one after work as a way to unwind. Tonight’s was inspired by the lovely full moon. Vivid Mars appeared as well, but he didn’t contribute to the story so he had to go.]
