Under night, he invades. His slick black shell glints as he scurries over my clothes, between my books, even the words. He’s in every crevice, on the sheets, crawling, tickling my skin. I slap my neck. He’s gone.
Read MoreUnder night, he invades. His slick black shell glints as he scurries over my clothes, between my books, even the words. He’s in every crevice, on the sheets, crawling, tickling my skin. I slap my neck. He’s gone.
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