Every night at 11:30 he sent it. She would be waiting with her cloak on for its faint glimmer at the far end of the field. Its glow would grow brighter as it got closer, until finally it was at her door.
She followed it to him, to the cave she could never find in the daylight. He’d be waiting for her, there, in the water, his green eyes glowing, his strong arms waiting to embrace her.
He took her there, in the water. Their cries echoed off of the stone walls, all under the gleaming light of the lantern.
One night the lantern did not arrive at the usual time. She waited in her cloak until the first rosy fingers of dawn crept above the trees before falling asleep where she sat by the window.
He came to her then, in her dream, as a man. He took her hand, and they walked in the sunshine, through the field and into the dappled sunlight of the forest, until she saw it, the dark opening to a cave. Their cave.
Once inside, he held her in his arms, tighter than he ever had before. She heard and felt him sobbing. She knew he was leaving her.
They found her lifeless body there, at the window, in her cloak.
Fandango is the host of Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge.