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terrible that blends perfect with shadow, something small with large eyes and horrible claws, something long and thin with insect limbs and antenna. But the room is empty—the phantoms disappear before I can face them dead-on. I pull the covers up to my son’s chin and kiss him on the cheek, goodnight; goodbye. My husband lulls me to sleep with stories about his day at the office. I feel his hand slide off my breast at some point in his litany. He sighs, stops talking, and rolls over onto his other side, facing the wall. I wake again to the sounds of scratching and wait to hear the baby cry. It doesn’t come. I hold my breath and now I can see something watching me from the doorway, actually hear its breath this time, the almost-giggle as it takes a step towards me, closer, and again. My lungs are bursting. I can’t move. It is right in front of me, standing at the foot of the bed, eyes glowing large and yellow in the darkness. My toes shrink into my feet in absolute terror.

Black Fox Literary Magazine Issue #3  

The Winter Issue of Black Fox Literary Magazine featuring new fiction, poetry, non-fiction and photography.

Black Fox Literary Magazine Issue #3  

The Winter Issue of Black Fox Literary Magazine featuring new fiction, poetry, non-fiction and photography.

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