Beyond the Feeders II

Like a black avalanche being called by the sound to follow, color appears beyond the ebbing tide of birds. It’s beautiful. It’s dangerous. It is a fate unfolding from the heavens bore from the depths of your new hell.

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In the Recesses

As my children and the rest of our communities children grew up, I would release each new monster, which formed in my mind’s eye, into the shadows of my yard. And from what I’m told, they are still lurking about the neighborhood in search of delicious children brave enough to play games of the night.