I don’t know. I have my suspicions, but I don’t know. I do know that hearing these stories sent shivers up my spine: Many of them were stories I could tell. A few of the pictures, too, they were strikingly familiar. I know that when we moved, I stopped seeing them. I know that the one time I went back to the place where I had seen them, I was overwhelmed by terror.
I don’t know what they are.
But I know I saw something.
It is some comfort, perhaps, to know that others have seen them too. Have you?
Tale Told 