He clicked the mouse frantically. Why had he opened that link? A woman sobbed on a looping clip. On the family computer. After his bedtime. Panic.
He lunged for the power button. Her head jerked up. She lunged at the monitor. A black screen.
Relieved, he went to bed.
Curled up under his quilt, he tasted ozone. He closed his eyes when he heard his closet inch open, but he could smell it. The rotten stench of decay that grew stronger as the quilt slid gently away from him. The wheezing, damp breath approached.
She still visits him every night.
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alt="First Kiss, Second Kiss by Jeff Currier"
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>
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Up, Up and Stay by Jacob Conflitti"
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sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="The Butterfly Defect by Andreas Flögel"
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sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Heavyweight by Gully Novaro"
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>