Trees Outside My Window
Genre: Horror / Flash Fiction
I used to think the trees outside my window were sentient.
That they were alive and they were watching me sleep. That they might be protecting me. That the scratching sound on my window was just their branches. That the rustling sound was their leaves in the wind.
I used to think the trees outside my window were watching me.
I used to think the man outside my window who crushed leaves under his feet when he walked, and scratched on my window while watching me sleep, was a tree that was protecting me.
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