The Devil Crept In

by Ania Ahlborn

Because I feel that, in the Heavens above The angels, whispering to one another, Can find, among their burning terms of love None so devotional as that of “Mother.” —Edgar Allan Poe

Jude had been ten, but his rage was big enough to fill a man twice his size.

Did he dare? No. He turned tail and booked it back home, because that house was a place neither one of them went by themselves. Not ever. No way.

Her uncanny ability to pretend as though Terry existed in some parallel universe never failed to creep him out.

His heart was a butterfly trapped in a mason jar, beating fast enough to fill the sky with shooting stars.

Like, how for an inkling of a moment, the devil himself had crawled right into him and was itching to get out.

The pink ones gave Stevie headaches, and the throbbing sometimes made weird things come out of the walls.

good news just needs to be good news. Sometimes, asking questions only dulls the shine.

Having answers meant knowing what you could have done to prevent those awful things from happening.