I lay here in my bed.
The air condintioner grumbles.
The fan whirs.
But that is not why I am awake.
Sometimes it’s not what’s in the Dark, but simply the Dark, itself, that we fear.
I lay here in my bed.
The air condintioner grumbles.
The fan whirs.
But that is not why I am awake.
Sometimes it’s not what’s in the Dark, but simply the Dark, itself, that we fear.
