Pneuma Kleptis pt.9
by Lee Hulme
The creature didn’t sleep, not during the feeding cycle, but it could grow tired, and it often needed to pass time. Over the centuries it had learned to enter something akin to a doze. Sometimes it even dreamed. Sometimes the memories it couldn’t find while awake showed themselves again.
The creature, buried beneath its cloak, drifting peacefully, heard a familiar word being called. It was a few moments before it recognised the word as a name, and a few more before it recognised the name as its own.
“Melita!” the voice called again, filled with kindness but tinged with annoyance.
Melita found herself crouched beneath a cloth-covered table, feeling the urge to giggle. As footsteps entered the room she remembered why: an apple, stolen from her mother’s kitchen, the core still held in one hand.
“Melita,” the voice said softly as the cloth was lifted and a dark-haired woman with an, olive-toned face appeared. “Did you eat it already?”
Melita nodded, holding out the eaten fruit.
“Then no treat for you today. Out! You have extra work to do.”
Melita groaned but crawled out and stood, brushing herself off. Her cotton garments were loose and comfortable, her sandals snug, and her hair – a soft brown, much lighter than her mother’s – was tied back at the nape of her neck. Continue reading