I heard a scream in the night, a terrible sound, but it touched me in a way I didn’t expect. You see, the sound, that distant scream, I liked it. It made me feel good, better than I had felt in years. I wanted to hear it again, and so I waited in the night, not a thought occurring to me to do anything other than listen.
The second scream never came, and it wasn’t until morning that I awoke to myself, haggard and tired, standing alone by the bus stop. A person had screamed for help, and all I did was listen, smiling to myself.
I wandered home as the rising sun stabbed at my eyes. Somewhere, sleeping inside me, I still wanted that scream, wanted to, what did I want? to taste it again, that delicious fear. It was a new hunger, some undiscovered part of my bowels.
I crawled into my cold bed, the light of a new day breaking through the window’s blinds. I lay there sleepless, desire consuming me. I don’t think I ever rose from that bed.
Oh my gosh so dark…
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You’re welcome.
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