At Dark, I Become Loathsome

by Eric LaRocca

That’s what I am—a secret to be kept, away from everyone, in a dark room.

I find myself becoming decidedly loathsome in daylight until I’m a sunlit monster.

For some inexplicable reason, I’ve never been endowed with the ability to picture myself as a member of their mature and experienced coven. I can’t help but wonder if my inability to envision myself as one of them has to do with the fact that I’m destined to expire before my time. I can’t help but wonder if I’m somehow ordained to die in middle age and if on some subconscious level, I know that pondering my existence as an old man would be a futile exercise in total vanity.

“Children lose their innocence when they realize that adults can hurt them,” he says.