Mysterious pile of glass on the kitchen floor.
Ray stares for a moment, then holds up the largest shard.
A scarlet stain, blood, catches the light.
He sweeps up the glass as he should.
The next morning, a second pile of shards,
this one at the edge of the hall,
closer to his room.
He holds the largest shard up to the light once more,
He sweeps once more, this time with a sick, heavy sensation in his stomach.
Something is wrong.
The next pile of glass appears right outside his bedroom door,
and he cuts himself.
Same shining red.
That night, he forces himself to stay awake, because he knows if he sleeps,
when he wakes, he’ll find the glass in bed with him.
hours spent in silence and fear
of who or what brings shards and blood into his home.
But somehow, eventually, he drifts off.
A flare of pain from his forearm jolts him awake.
He stands next to his bed, pulling shards from beneath his skin,
for the pile that waits on the sheets.
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