2012 by Gregory Coffin
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The shout shattered the previous calm of the darkened yard which had its illumination from one bay window, a lamp post, and the glow of the cloudless evening sky. In a remote neighborhood, towering toward the moon hovering at the horizon was the silhouette of a mansion. The shout echoed off the blackened exterior brick walls and resonated back into the courtyard; some of the sound crept into an open door making it to the ears of the man who was preparing the last suitcases for a planned vacation.
‘Dame’ was the nickname ascribed to him, a name he loved to hear, but only from one person: Dominique, his wife.