Jeremy San Francisco — 1910 Metamorphosis

 One night, Jeremy sees a woman, pirouetting along the cobbles, light as a whisper, carefree as a dream. Her dance calls to Jeremy, a breeze across the sea of loneliness.

He bites without thinking, scooping her drained body into his arms and spiriting her into the cellar of an abandoned house. He watches as she twists and writhes. Her mouth opening and closing in a quest for air. Puncturing his wrist, he forces it against her mouth. Feeling his blood, his being, flow into her like a homecoming.

As she lies, pale and not yet conscious on the floor, he leaves. It is almost dawn. Outside, a heap of old newspapers gently rises and falls inside the doorway of a shop. Jeremy looks at the paper. The grey edges curl upward with the heat of his desire. Smoke rises in the air mingling with the fog. Under the blanket of ash, curled into a ball against the cold, lies an old woman.