It was not until later in the day, whilst I washed at the basin before the mirror, that I noticed the scars. They were on the side of my neck, right upon my vein, and I remembered it to be the place upon which Lilith had bestowed her kiss. Two small, white circles, no larger than the head of a pin, and the skin around those circles was slightly discoloured as if someone had sucked at the flesh there. I began to worry, for even later in the day many a friend and family member remarked upon how pale I appeared. I dismissed it as being a result of my keeping late hours.

Now, though, a year later I wonder as I sit before my window watching the pale moon, if perhaps I made a dreadful mistake. Whether or not it was a mistake is irrelevant now, for I could not resist if I wanted to. I feel the lust again, the desire, and I remember how beautiful she looked, and how intoxicating her scent was. And the dream, the dream that satisfies desire.

So I wait once more before my window, while the breeze rushes through the trees and the night air fills my lungs. I can hardly keep my body and soul in check, for I know she will kiss me again.