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“It was on a night like this in 1967 that he’d first seen them. The memory was too fresh. He cursed himself for letting his thoughts take that particular path. “Don’t be a damned fool,” he said out loud, needing to hear something, even his own voice. “They aren’t out there.” And yet every fiber of his being knew better. They were here again. It was his only thought as he turned and tried to run, knowing it was a fool thing to do in the dark …” — B.J. Daniels
It was on a night like this in 1967 that he’d first seen them. The memory was too fresh. He cursed himself for letting his thoughts take that particular path.
“Don’t be a damned fool,” he said out loud, needing to hear something, even his own voice. “They aren’t out there.”
And yet every fiber of his being knew better. They were here again. It was his only thought as he turned and tried to run, knowing it was a fool thing to do in the dark …