They raced along the cliffs, four quick feet so sure of their footing in the dark that only one set of tracks were left behind, if indeed any at all. The moonless night shook with wind, as if any light that had managed to cling on from the day had been blown far off into the sea, the distant lighthouse circling and the town at its footing growing dimmer behind them.
A hand offered in the dark and met in kind, they found their way down the secret path to the shore, rock cliffs chittering with debris in the darkness, waves crashing far below. Bare feet found the dark pebble beach and whispers were exchanged. Neither knew quite why they were there, but the night held a secret and this had to be the most secret place they knew of.
A lone lantern suddenly sprung to light near the shore, and a hush fell over them. It flickered in the bluster of the evening and in the dim light a face slowly revealed itself, her eyes on them, her neck long and as bare as her the rest of her, and her mouth wide and full of teeth. She beckoned them over and to the shame of their childish innocence, they obeyed.
About the Author: Liz is a writer, guitarist and photographer. She can be found on @lizduckchong, reading at @loveletterpod, or stealing flowers from their neighbours’ gardens.