When I was a little girl, I used to read at night. I always kept my closet light on. It flowed from underneath the door and dissolved the illusion of darkness with white brilliance.
Warm.
Inviting.
I felt so comfortable that I would forget to turn it off afterwards.
But one night, it turned itself off.
YOU ARE READING
Horror Stories
HorrorIf you're looking forward to a night of sleeplessness, read on.
