Marked

She was the only one who noticed me, and she was gone before I could think of calling out to her.

Her face haunted me, but I was too fearful to seek her out. Despite Ivan’s assurance that my brand was visible only to our own kind it was days before I could face the world, and even then I went only when hunger impelled me.

That soon wore off. I became confident of passing unnoticed amongst mere sheep-like men, and began to haunt that street as her face haunted me – but she was more cautious than I.

It was dusk when we met again, and far from the busy street. Despite the gloom, I could see now that it was hate, not pity, in her eyes, but I never saw the knife. I only heard her whisper

“Fool. Did you think that only your brand marked you?”

A sideways look at this week’s VisDare, more interested in the oddly suspicious passerby than the ‘interesting’ figure. Follow the link for more stories … and to find out what toothpaste has to do with it.