Doctor, by Andrew J. Stone

I’ve seen things lately, things that shouldn’t be here. I’m not hallucinating, not yet; I’m just
glimpsing creatures from the corner of my eye. In the bath, with freshly brushed teeth, the mirror
reveals a thing scurrying out of the frame. Or in my car as I turn onto Baker Place, a flash of flesh
shoots into view from behind the fire hydrant and disappears beneath the weeds. They follow me
into bed, wait for my slumber. I’m not paranoid, Doctor, nor am I creating these creatures. They
are real. I’m not sure how much longer they’ll just simply follow. Soon, they’ll consume my

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