Monster

They’re coming.

I can’t hear them, see them, or smell them, but I know.

It happens every year, on the same day. The skies grow thick with clouds, blotting out the sun before it even has the chance to rise. Darkness hangs over the city all day, and we go about our preparations in the eerie twilight of a dawn that never comes. Then, when sunset would normally approach, a blood moon rises instead. Its crimson glow pierces the cloud cover despite the depth of the roiling mass. Bathed in that bloody light, they come.

The monsters.

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Child’s Play

‘Oliver, I’m booooored!’

I don’t even turn to look at Caprice, instead continuing to half-heartedly throw stale bread at the ducks circling the edge of the pond in front of us. I can see in my peripheral vision, though, that she’s long since given up that activity and is now swinging her legs impatiently at something that I’m sure exceeds the speed of light.

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Second Chances

It’s bright. I try to shield my eyes from the harsh light assaulting them, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t escape it. Everything around me, in every direction and for as far as my eyes can see, is completely white. The landscape is completely featureless. Even the shadow below my feet is barely discernible. I may as well be being illuminated from every direction at once. It’s like some bizarre green-screen setup, before post-production has edited the backgrounds in.

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