Strike once. See twice.
The matchbook belongs to the kind of horror I want Night Vendor to carry: ordinary object, bad implication, no explanation begging to be believed.
It stays under glass until it deserves a physical form.
The matchbook remains under glass. Small. Quiet. Wrong to find in your pocket.
The matchbook belongs to the kind of horror I want Night Vendor to carry: ordinary object, bad implication, no explanation begging to be believed.
It stays under glass until it deserves a physical form.