Monstrilio

by Gerardo Sámano Córdova

“It just feels like I should be doing something else.” “Like what?”

“Crying.” “Then cry.” “I’ve cried myself out.”

home. I wade through the shadows of our living room, hoping to find monsters. Chat with them. Laugh. But there are no monsters in these shadows. Only me.

Ahead of me there’s only darkness. It will swallow me. But I don’t panic. The panic is not mine to carry anymore.