After being awoken by the sound of something feral racing
around in my backyard, I was relieved to hear the familiar sound of my dog
coming through the pet door. It wasn’t until
I noticed him asleep on my bedroom floor that I truly began to worry.
Ted dashed in from the rain before removing his coat and
opening his front closet’s door. His
usual hanger was taken already, though, by an unfamiliar jacket, still dripping
water onto his floor.
Half asleep, I stumbled into my apartment during the middle of
night only to find the hallway and kitchen lights wouldn’t work. I’d just reached the living room lamp when a
voice behind me whispered “That one’s broken, too.”
Though Jonathon was initially happy to hear his son had
gotten over the fear of the monster under his bed, it didn’t last. “Oh, no, daddy,” the child explained, “it
told me it was moving to you and mommy’s room.”
I have a reoccurring dream where I’m being chased by an evil
version of myself, and last night it finally caught me. This morning I woke up and my shadow was
right up against the bed.
Even though June considered herself to have a real “green-thumb”,
today she had found something quite unexpected in her garden. Given the state of decomposition, the body
was already quite old.
Linda wasn’t usually troubled by impatient people knocking
on the bathroom door; it happened at work pretty regularly. Today, however, she’d stayed home…
I had just left town when I noticed a car that had
apparently run off the side of the road and pulled over to help. “Thanks for stopping,” the paper in the empty
driver’s seat read, “now turn around.”
After stepping from the shower, Robert was shocked by how
much gray he saw in the mirror. The
thing behind him had skin the shade of something that had been dead for weeks.
“I can't sleep,” Kevin
told his wife as he rolled over beside her in bed. But, as usual, she was no help; she’d been
much less talkative since her death.
