And should the unknowable come...
"These facts few psychologists will dispute, and their admitted truth must establish for all time the genuineness and dignity of the weirdly horrible tale as a literary form."
— Supernatural Horror in Literature
We've sealed off the whole street and pulled folks out
as best we can. The isolation zone
is the red edge on this plan and note there are
just two corners of less than sixty degrees
which brings me to these: the cell phone shots from Smith
he got about a dozen off before...
well in fact we do not know what made him fall
silent but his phone continued to upload
from somewhere in there on the road... although
its GPS believes it's miles away
and out in space. Look! the first corner:
a face behind that window? But the eyes...
and, see? Bare seconds later gone and here...
another one. And we think this is the steps
at number four, according to the plans
they are supposed to go up just one floor
and to a door, not to whatever that is there.
The second corner. It's darker here and the ground
does that look like frost to you? Nearly twenty-two
centigrade here in the world outside. Two bodies
lying there. It may be Mr Wilson and
the WPC, no injuries
I wish he'd shown the faces, I mean I'm glad
he didn't but wish he had... We're going round
the corner now and night seems to have come.
It was half past one in the afternoon. Smith moves
much faster now, we don't know why. And look
ahead. Another corner, the third of two...
This the deepest he got in the zone—
Hang on! I've got a call. It's from Smith's phone...
