Black Mass

I can handle the slight shiver down my spine as I turn a corner. I don’t mind a second glance at the end of the hallway. I’m all for a skip in my heartbeat when the floorboards shriek below me as I wander downstairs into the darkness.

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The stars are dripping onto me from above. We’re all together – the wind, the clouds – yet we all carry on, alone as we ever have been. We are not sad, despondent, or dejected. We are not happy, satisfied, or fulfilled. We just carry on.

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I don’t know why I cried at Christmas dinner. Under the calm glow of trees and candles, I looked from my empty plate to the people around me; the welcome smell of cooked roasts reminding me of times once lived, yet never forgotten.

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