Walking at night along a route you should know like the back of your hand shouldn’t scare you… Should it? Watching the lights, the concrete, the fences, the familiar homes—the day turned to night. You walk down the same streets as always. Did you hear that? No? Really?

  Time seems to have its own breath. You see nothing out of the ordinary, yet you can’t shake the mistrust. Something is approaching. You don’t know what it is. You try to take refuge in the familiarity of the street you already know, choosing to ignore whatever it is that’s creeping closer. It slithers on its own, foreign to you, yet somehow you know it lives within you. You can feel its breath in the air you’re breathing.

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  You want to run, don’t you? The thought of it getting closer is starting to drive you mad. You try to run, but there’s nowhere to go. It knows every street you see and every one you don’t—especially the alleys where not a single ray of light dares to enter. Those are its favorites.

  Keep running. It loves watching you try to escape. Breathing’s getting harder now, isn’t it? Do you want to jump? Tell me, where would you even go? Keep your eyes on the path. Don’t look back. Better not look back.