4 min read
He & I
“Sit, Terry. We have a long summer ahead of us.” His voice seems almost to reach out and touch me as he speaks. But this is not a pleasant touch. It is a touch which turns the skin cold wherever felt, and it causes the hair on the back of my neck to stand on end. His words seem hollow and faint, and float to my ears like a whisper. I have no proof they were ever spoken at all, save for the chill which they force down my spine. He crawls along the floor, obscured in darkness, scraping His nails across the tile as He does so. A chair stands in the center of the room. He finds His…