EXTRACT FOR
Heaven's Diary
(Giselle Renarde)

As the ringing in my ears subsided, I sensed motion in the corner of the closet.  I could have sworn I heard the shifting of fabric??"heavy fabric, something like taffeta.  It's a very distinct sound.



Still, I convinced myself this was merely a gust of air from an unseen draft.  Surely this mysterious breeze had shifted one of the rarely-worn frocks I'd hung in the far corner of the closet.  Surely there was nothing more sinister going on.



And then, as my eyes adjusted to the darkness of my surroundings, I noted a shape in the far corner.  My mind attempted most desperately to make sense of what I was seeing.  I knew that Elle had packed many of her belongings into black garbage bags for the move.  I wondered if perhaps she had tossed a bag or two in our closet.  Perhaps her own was insufficient.



And yet, as my eyes adjusted further to the space, I realized the form I beheld was not solely black.  There seemed to be a portion that was silver, silvery-blue, much like a jacket Terra used to own. When it caught in the moonlight, its delicate, shimmering shade defied description.



I could have sworn Terra had discarded that jacket before the move. In fact, I'm certain she did.  We'd both pared down our individual belongings in favour of building a life together in our new home.



And you see how that plan is working out.



In that moment, I wondered if perhaps Terra were crouching in the corner of the closet.  Black is the colour of my true love's hair, dark as the night and dense as the woods.  



Yes, this could be Terra crouching in the corner. 



But why?  



Was she hiding to surprise me?  



To frighten me?  



Was this some sort of practical joke?  



I'd never known Terra to play one...



But how could this shape possibly be Terra?  I could hear her in the kitchen, the distinct clinking of teacups on saucers as she arranged the set her grandmother gave her.  A housewarming gift for darling granddaughter and her transgender mates.



My senses returned enough that I was able to reach up and grasp hold of the silver chain dangling from the ceiling. 



When the small bulb illuminated the space, there was nothing. 



Nothing in the corner, no one in the closet.  I was alone.  



Dishes continued to clink downstairs, but upstairs there was only me.  



I issued a self-conscious chuckle, for I felt silly to have become so wracked with fear.  Whatever I had sensed must have been of my mind's creation.  I told myself so repeatedly.



I told myself so even as the lightbulb above my head dimmed.