by M J Wolfson

Deep into the midnight hour, with all the ills of the world abroad, I screamed the names of the monsters that haunted my nightmares. I looked out into the dark, into the world of silhouette and shadow, watching for their presence. Comfort came in the cradling embrace of my mother. She held me close, and whispered the words of reassurance, “Shush, baby, shush. They’ve all gone now. It’s just a dream, baby. The monsters aren’t real. Humans don’t exist.”

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