From a868e030f23610a9c5a72ace6e247747b310aa44 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: DTB Date: Tue, 20 Aug 2024 10:46:46 -0600 Subject: [PATCH] 2024-08-20 --- homepage.content | 58 ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 1 file changed, 58 insertions(+) diff --git a/homepage.content b/homepage.content index 07feed6..95efe3f 100755 --- a/homepage.content +++ b/homepage.content @@ -1050,6 +1050,64 @@ pre { /* DRY who? */ } +/blah/2024-08-20.html + +: story p1 + +One summer evening about a year ago, I was sitting next to Tracy watching +television when there came a terribly loud series of knocks on our door. I got +up to go find out who it was when Tracy silently raised a hand, reminding me I +couldn't answer. She walked over to the door and was about to undo the lock +when the knocks turned to thuds. + +I ran, as silently as I could, to the door and grabbed the aluminium baseball +bat from the small coat closet across the narrow hall. I positioned myself to +the right of the door, the opposite side from the hinges, and readied the bat +before nodding at Tracy. She shook her head. Still - thud! Thud! Thud! She +squinted through the peephole and looked back at me and shrugged. She raised +her fingertips to the deadlock. + +"Ah!" she let out a yelp as her fingers contacted the wooden door. I didn't +understand why at first but as she withdrew her hand from the door I noticed +the residue, or film, or syrup, or some sort of non-Newtonian fluid that was +following her index finger, like a string of melted cheese following a piece of +pizza. "It's melting." + +"The door?" I asked before I realized. The door had a matte, waxy texture to +it - a texture I hadn't really seen since dropping acid. The deadlock and +doorknob both began - subtly, or perhaps it was my imagination - to fall down +the fluid and the top of the doorway started falling backwards, outwards. +Little red drops, colored by the paint, presumably, crawled towards us along +the surface like drops of water on a shower wall. "How is that possible?" + +The thuds stopped. Tracy and I looked at each other. Tracy looked uneasy. Then +her eyes widened and as I turned around, swinging my bat with me, I watched +pitch black fingers gripping the door from the top peel it from the wall, then +blend into the inky darkness that had replaced our usual lit porch. The bat +slipped from my grip and was flung into the darkness, landing about 10 meters +away at the same height of our apartment floor despite our living on the fourth +story of this building. + +"I'm calling the police. Something's wrong. Something's really wrong." + +Tracy started toward the phone but I grabbed her sleeve. "Please. We can figure +this out." + +She looked into my eyes and held her gaze there before slightly smiling. A +quiet: "Okay." + +I went over to the kitchen window. I could still see the bright, yellow night +sky polluted by the thousands of streetlights below. I opened the window and +took the screen out. Tracy waited behind me, watching the doorway. I crawled +out onto the porch and helped her make her way with me. All seemed normal. We +crept to the front door of the apartment. I turned the corner to the entrance +but nearly ran into a man, dressed in a suit and tie, sitting on a folding +chair outside our intact, red door. I could feel the blood leave my face. + +Behind me, Tracy gasped as she found us. The man stood and looked me in the +eyes. His irises were gray. + + /blah/2024-08-14.html My blah has made my life worse. That's why I publish rare, clumped updates - I