I see him almost every night, as I silently stalk to the window of my bedroom, and pull the curtains back, having a wonderful view of a very beautiful gothic building across the street. That's where he goes, night after night.
It was almost six months ago when I first saw him, as I glanced out the window one night when I was having one of my bouts of insomnia, there he was, perched on the ledge slightly outside the archway of a balcony. At first, he was bathed in shadow, he was just a large, muscular silhouette in the night, and you could only vaguely see his movement if you watched carefully enough. The first few times I seen him, he mostly stayed off the ledge and in the shadows on the balcony.
I didn't understand what he was, not then, it wasn't until around three weeks later when I happened to be awake again that I looked out of the window and there it was again, this creature…this…thing.
It's a male, I'm pretty sure of that, his skin seems to be the colour of brick, although I could be wrong, it's difficult to say at night. He stands, possibly about six – six and a half feet tall, the frightening physical appearance of a demon with horns, and a large beaked mouth, he has a large impressive wingspan of about and hair that gleams like silver.
He's fascinating, and frightening, and I find myself going to the window almost every night, hoping to see him.
He moves back and fourth, pacing. His movement is smooth, almost panther-like, such agile grace. His silvery-white hair is stirred by the wind, and flows like liquid silk in the breeze.
Sometimes, I think he's sitting there for solace. As if it's an escape from his life, a place where he can rest and watch the traffic below, and sit with his thoughts.
I've heard tales of "Gargoyles". Sometimes I wonder if he's one of them. I've heard rumours that they're dangerous, hostile and vicious creatures, not to be trusted, murdering flesh-eating monsters.
This creature doesn't seem quite like that, he seems as if…he's pondering, in all the time I've watched him in this six or so months, I've never seen him attack any of the citizens below. He just watches everything, he settles in a crouched position, and folds his wings down over his shoulders to form a sort of cape. He observes the city below – just as I observe him. It's almost as if he's standing guard over the city, like a guardian Angel, in wait. Lingering as if on guard.
When he leaves just before dawn, I feel my heart sink, I could watch him all day, standing at the window, concealed by the drapes and study this magnificent creature.
One day, I'll wait for him on that balcony, one day, when I feel brave enough to confront him.
Until then, I'll wait.