The monsters of my subconscious have been ebbing and flowing these past months.
Sometimes they remain invisible to me, gripping me, as before, in that half-conscious state between sleeping and waking, terrifying but passing quickly. Other times, I see them lurking in the shadows as I go about my day. They appear as little imps, or goblins, or demons of some sort, their pale eyes boring into me from inside my desk at work or the angular outline of their twisted bodies skulking in the darkened rooms of my apartment. Sometimes they beckon me to follow them into their dark hideaways, but I ignore them.
It sounds so silly—a grown man, afraid of the dark!—but I know there is something real to it.
And I know that they're growing stronger.
One day I will succumb.
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