Monday, June 16, 2014

Downstairs


  The third stair creaked, just as it had done for years.  It sounded deeper, darker, this time.  A few more steps and there was another sound, that of broken glass.  The bulb had been shattered.  No matter, he could smell them now: dank, wet, and sweaty.  He stepped further down, and embraced the darkness. 

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