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The empty place between plants on the windowsill taunted Cory as he laid in bed, trying to sleep. The empty space, as large as a head, haunted him. He stared there, at the dark emptiness outside, unable to shut his eyes because one night, many nights ago, pale creatures had crawled up out of the canyon and eyelessly stared through that window, freezing him motionless in his bed.
He thought a lot about that empty space. Why it was still there, after these many nights. He could put an empty pot there. He had those, stacked in the corner behind the door. Some dusty with old soil, some fresh and glimmering with bright paint, others cracked and chipped from being knocked to the floor. He could set one of them back in the window, cover up the bare glass.
But he didn’t. Because he didn’t believe the pale creatures, limbed like shell-less turtles, would ever return. Whatever they were. Somebody’s nightmares?
Or, maybe he did believe they’d return. And he wanted them to. No better justification to feeling terrified and like he should be crying than nightmares; eyeless, lipless creatures staring into his soul through a flimsy glass window.
Hello. I’m Cory, and I’m terrified of whatever alter added an entire new wing to our house.
Do you have a name? Or an age? Or some way for me to know who you are? Because the door is rather small and I can’t fit through.
I…could give you a tour, if you want. You’d have to come outside though. I bet Mina would gladly bake you something to eat. Is there anything you’d like to eat?
Or would you rather stay inside for awhile? I can come back later today.
I…suppose I’ll leave you to it? And come back later, then.
Let me know when you stop laughing enough to tell me what’s funny.