Sundown and my favourite time of day was fast-approaching. The darkness of evening where I could finally be myself. I was tired of pretending, smiling fake smiles, repressing my violent thoughts, hiding my true nature. Clacking away at a keyboard for eight hours until the workday was over and the time was right. Soon my brethren would join me. In the blackness of my rat’s nest apartment, I unzipped my skin and stepped out, leaving the greasy, pink-coloured flesh on the floor. I stretched my arthropod legs and clacked my mandibles. I looked forward to feasting well into the night.
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alt="To Cleave the Crone by E.M. McCormack"
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sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="They Only See Me When I Cry by Alara Rogers"
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sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="The Last Leprechaun by Dakria"
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sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Sitting on Aine's Cursed Stone by Crystal N. Ramos"
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>