I'm beginning to be uncertain what day it is without a calendar.
Maybe that will mean the days will get out of order, and I won't care, and the darkness will just give me no dreams, and everything will be over. There.
There is nothing to do here for me now.
I only have the cat. Today, it didn't come in for food. My hand misses petting its back, that shivering fur. Those curved, thin ears.
That wet nose touching fingers.
YOU ARE READING
God =100,00O Dollars
HorrorIn this Weird Fiction short story, Frank Hopson records his days in an audio journal, losing track of dates and struggling to decipher what's real and what's a hallucination due to the human brain's common psychedelic reaction to blindness -- it's c...
