Fog engulfs the house. Doorbell sounds. As you near, the doorknob turns. Run!
Pages the book dissolve into life. Mirrors show no path. Time has arrived
You pack. You throw out. You throw out more. You realize what’s needed.
The stars fell. Like a clamshell they opened. The Earth looks small now.
The handwritten note. “Everything is done. For me, for us.”.
Natural causes, naturally.
It wasn’t just any dead body. Mine! By whose hand? Was it deserving?
Head pounds. Slivers glass in finger. But nothing like word counts agonize me.
Obscured faces regarding you.
They know something.