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Weekly Contest #304
He can’t see it. I can’t let him see it. If he sees it, it’s real. If it’s real, it can hurt me. It’s there, lurking in every shadow, waiting for me to feed it. Waiting until it can stand the light of day, but even I can no longer stand the light. He rises with the sun, and I cower under the covers hiding from the rays. And from the thing that haunts the edge of my vision. He cannot see it there, in the shadows, but I can. I know it is there, always. Even when daylight fills the room, dousing the shadows in every corner, I know it is there....
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