Oh, boy. Here’s when I mutter an apology. When I sidestep him and scurry back to the party, where the laughter and the music and a fresh glass of liquor will warm the chill on my skin. But I don’t, can’t, do anything but stand and stare at him. Jesus, was he this tall and broad on the cliff? Maybe this hallway is narrower than I remember, or maybe it’s the darkness. Monsters are always bigger and scarier in the dark.
