for the brave
Dark, haunting narratives with teeth — for the nights you want to be scared.
I know the man upstairs only by sound. Tonight there was the first shoe, and then nothing came after it.
Third time since I lay down. A thin line of glow through the blinds, ninety seconds, then dark again. The gaps aren't even.
The walk from my room to the bathroom feels like it takes more steps after 2am. I've started counting.