Day Two, Evening
The house, usually quiet and still, was focused on the crying girl at its door. She cried and shook, wailed and moaned, beating her fists at the front doors. But the doors remained firm, and her cries subsided. Other humans came to her, hastened by her shrill sobs. Incredulity and surprise wafted through the air as the current met the new.
Their unity is uneasy at best, their paranoia only a faint whisp in the houses’ musty air. But any craftsman will tell you that masterpieces take time. They had all the time they wanted.
The humans appeared to be organizing, their words unimportant. Smatterings of determination and even a streak of comradery unfurled. This would not do at all.
Their unity is uneasy at best, their paranoia only a faint whisp in the houses’ musty air. But any craftsman will tell you that masterpieces take time. They had all the time they wanted.
The humans appeared to be organizing, their words unimportant. Smatterings of determination and even a streak of comradery unfurled. This would not do at all.