A Slender Shadow

A dry, ticking moth flapped helplessly inside an old, wide-brimmed glass tumbler left forgotten near the attic rafters. I unfolded my limbs from the dark ceiling beam, drifting downward like a whisper through the dust. The glass shuddered with frantic, brittle clicks. I lingered over the rim, peering into its transparent trap until the flutter slowed to a fragile tremble. Very gently... without a breath of sound... I tilted a stiff cardboard coaster over the top with a single claw tip. The glass fell utterly silent. The night folded around it, just as it must.