A woman in her fifties sat in our parlour—our parlour—warning the camera, “It’s living in the attic!”
The tapes were labelled in handwriting, too careful to be casual: 1986, 1987, 1988.
My wife and I watched all three.
In 1987, her hair had gone white and teeth had fallen out. By 1988, the camera pointed at the floor. We only heard breathing. Then a scream. Then silence.
“That can’t be real,” I said.
“She filmed it. We saw—"
“We saw what she wanted us to see. That’s it.”
I put a padlock on the attic door anyway.
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alt="The Attic Door by B.G. Smith"
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alt="Off of the Screen by Alethea Paul"
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alt="Head-mounted Camera Discovered on Skull by S.F.J. Painter"
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