As a child, I was often chased by Something on the dark, wet streets of my nightmares. I could never get away fast enough, as if slogging through a waist-deep bog. I could never gain momentum, and Something always closed the space between us. It was easy. It delighted in my fear.

Eventually, Something caught me, but I was older. I fought back. Even as I beat it into a bloody stump, Something delighted in my fear.

Today, when I see him, waiting for me to panic and run, I stand fast and defiant.

Today, he only stares back.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s