The Overnight Guest

by Heather Gudenkauf

Fields of alfalfa, soybean, and corn were yellow and green patches in a never-ending quilt that blanketed the earth. Narrow gravel roads were gray seams and Burden Creek was a ragged tear through the fabric.

The stars felt so close. Like a pile of jacks to be scooped up in her palm. A fistful of stars. In that moment, such a thing didn’t seem impossible.

It isn’t the dark you should be afraid of, the girl thought, it’s the monsters who step out into the light that you need to fear.

Homes were supposed to be safe havens, meant to protect. It was supposed to be a shelter from the elements, a fortress to keep out evil, and her home had betrayed Josie in the worst possible way.