They were listening.
"Have you noticed the children?"
"What about them?"
"They seem different, don't they? Since we moved here?"
"Hush. They'll hear you."
"They're all the way upstairs. They can't hear."
They were listening.
"Yes. Yes, I've noticed."
"Timmy asked me about strangulation today."
"What?!"
"You know. And Sally..."
"Yes. The, um. The incident with the-"
"The knife. Where did she get it? She can't reach the counters."
"I don't know."
"Something is wrong here, Susan. Something terrible."
"Dammit, John, these are our CHILDREN..."
"Are they? Are they, though? Look at their eyes, next time."
"What do we do?"
"Send them somewhere. Where they can get help."
"Send them away?"
"Yes."
"What will they do with us if they learn what we're planning?"
"Well, we just can't tell them, is all. They can't know."
"John. John, I'm scared."
"Shh. Just be quiet. They can't hurt us if they don't know."
They were listening.
dunwich cuckoos! have your read Freakangels?
http://www.freakangels.com/?p=23
I mean, your story is obviously unrelated to Ellis's here, just that you might like it...
Unnerving
Nicely encapsulated...felt compelled to record it and hope I did it justice. http://snd.sc/16M3ZnT
xesands! So awesome! You made this sound SO MUCH BETTER than it actually is! I doff my cap in your general direction with great thanks.
Duke Kimball has been a slimy car salesman, a reluctant poet, a post-collegiate barista, a Hawaiian shirt enthusiast, a mediocre scholar, a religious zealot, and a wearer of hats. He lives in Lansing, MI with his brilliant and amazing wife Michelle.