The smiling thing in the darkness of my dreams perturbs me. Is it just a smile, a wicked, spreading smile filled with laughter and delighting in some secret-kept malice, or is there something down there grinning in that black and lightless hole, something lost in horror-wrapped meditations and smiling at its own sins. The spreading grin fills my waking thoughts. I see its teeth, its tightly stretched, white lips in every shadow; hear laughter in every cawing crow.
And I too have found myself laughing as the night comes on, smiling in the darkness of my loneliness. I too smile.
Tale Told 