Saint Ann’s Cousin


The late night wind poured through the open window and howled past Ryan’s ear, inserting a drooling wolf into his usual calculus test anxiety dream. It swept under his door and into his roommate’s bedroom, where it pushed the blanket over Tom’s mouth, as his wet dream of the girl across the street turned violent. Then the wind screamed through the vent and into the upstairs apartment, where it pulled at Maria’s hair, giving her nightmares of becoming a Gorgon.

The late night wind scaled the dusty chimney and floated slowly out of the house and down to where I waited on the lawn. I breathed it in, up my nose and back to its home, and smiled. “Tom dreams of her?” I began walking down the street, the false dawn coming. “Well, shall we make her dream of him? Or maybe of me?” I chuckled. “Or maybe even of you?”

Wailing from the back of my brain to my temple, the late night wind shrieked its opinion.

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