Interlude
I woke up to blackness. That was pretty common. My room had six windows exact. I could barely see the moon, save for when I pointed at it. I let my head leave the pillow for a minute as my eyes adjusted. There was a tiny monkey in my room, fast asleep. He looked so peaceful resting there, breathing in, breathing out. I heard a whisper come from what seemed to be outside my room: “Monkey. Monkey.” Did I just say that or was it coming from outside? No, it was outside, I’m sure of it. I heard the voice again call the monkey. I sat up in bed and pulled the covers a bit closer to my chest. My throat was tightening. Still the voice kept calling the monkey. At first the sounds seemed to come from nowhere in particular, then they were distinctly traveling through each of my six windows. The voice was consistent. So was the monkey, at every call he fidgeted and adjusted his sleeping position, but then continued to snooze. I started to feel anxious as the voice got louder. “Monkey! Monkey!” It was so loud I’m sure the moon could hear it. Through one window, through the next. Just as I was about to open my mouth and scream I saw a hand come through the window, grab the monkey by its neck and lift it up. “Oh monkey! There you are!”
['Leila Wu']
['Fiction', 'Short Story']