I hadn’t thought about death in a long time.
Yet it crept up on me silently that night. The thoughts, not the inevitable Act itself. Though it may be nice to see the Act himself, to watch his cloak drift into her living room.
The feeling of the night itself was cloaked in darkness.
It always hit like this when the weather was changing. Things got darker much quicker during these cold months, and she was never fully prepared.
This time was different, though. This time was more still than most. It was almost peaceful, welcoming.
This kind of dark only came around maybe once or twice a year. This was the darkest darkness.
Have you ever tried opening your eyes extra wide in the dead of the night, willing yourself to see what you don’t actually want to see, what you are terrified of the most?
That’s what that night was.