Belgium. I always loved this place but never the time period. Women’s dresses showing too much of our tops, every breath putting us on display. My name had changed many times, but here I was Emma.
As I stood on the veranda, overlooking the gardens, the house, also known as the “castle” had called me here, there was no doubt about it, assuring me I could change form and practice it. The night wind moved in as torches on brick walls cast shadows. I summoned my shawl, the navy blue, my favorite, with a snap of my fingers.
It gently draped over my shoulders, and I was enfolded in the dark color. I decided to wave my arm and changed easily into a bat, flying above where I had just stood. I looked down. Another wave, this time with my dark wing and I was the night….
I don’t mean I was part of the night or blended with it….I was the night. The sensation was incredible. And as I expected, the phantom came straight for me, barely visible. Cloaked in black and grey, a faint outline really, with an angry look on his face. He demanded, “Who are you?” “Are you the one with the red-haired Countess?”
I nodded, then realized I had no head, so I simply whispered, “Yes.” I couldn’t help it, but his bad manners prodded me, so I added, “And by the way it’s auburn.” “What??” he said. “Her hair is auburn….” I giggled and with another wave of my arm I was back to being a bat.
Overall, I counted the night as a success, as I flew around the veranda with torches casting shadows on brick walls.
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