Sitting, my eyes glaze over the floor. The letter appeared in pink and yellow. I took a second to sip my coffee before slouching down off the stool to pick up the small letter.
Addressed to me, the back wrote in large black letters, the senders address. I didn’t want to but I opened it anyway. Tasting the coffee drip off the side of my hand, the fingers sticky from jam, the letter was easy to open. The letter itself was an ugly off white yellow with tiny flecks here and there from the printers mistakes.
The letter was blank bar a single sentence. ‘Have you seen the triangle?’. None of it making sense, I hesitate to put it on the counter then look at it again. I read the question over and over. Surely there must be a mistake. Why would they have sent me this?
I put it down and sat on the stool, took the handle of the mug and sipped. Thinking how absurd the letter was. Thinking was this a joke. Taking it I read it again, thinking how absurd it must have been. I read again, over and over. Thinking there must be a mistake. I put the letter down. Took a sip of the coffee, thinking how absurd it was. It must be a joke. I take it again in my hands, reading it over and over. There must be a mistake. I put the letter-
I go to sip the coffee. It’s empty. There’s a black mold growing at the bottom. I drop the cup and the cup crashed, smashing the pieces all over the floor as well as the letter now ripped up as I couldn’t make sense of it. I clean the pieces up and throw them in the bin.
I decide to get another coffee and pour the boiled water from a kettle in the powder and stir. I think and went into a trance. My eyes glaze glaze over the floor from where I’m sitting.
The letter appeared in pink and yellow.
Listen. Seeing you got ritualistic. I can’t have you sliding under the door any more with the clattering of you claws. It frightens me far too much.
How does it do it, the Bone blackness of that shadow creeping silently under the door and over the walls. I wish you wouldn’t. Stop.
Why is it that it frightens me so much, this thing on the wall, looking at me. There’s nothing but black but I feel like there are invisible eyes looking straight at me. Through me. It’s frozen just staring at me, I can feel the tickle of hairs raising on my skin as it looks at me.
Why won’t it go away. I can’t stop looking at it. There’s a noise, small and precise. A slow arm raises and separates from this shadow, then a hand. Then the claws. Five thinned points appear, I can look at them but not focus. It’s moving without moving in my mind but I know it’s doing something. It’s crawling again. Slithering on the walls slowly but time slips by as it passes. Out of the window it goes into the orange glow of a street lamp and beyond into the trees. I close my eyes and blink and it’s the morning. I sit and watch those trees. They sway leaves and watch back. It’s there. It’s looking at me.
