It’s late outside. Cold. Foggy. Somewhat spumescent, even. But in here there is no time. There are no clocks. It’s warm and pleasant and candlelit to a certain extent.

            Until they show themselves.

            They loiter here and there, in light and dark, awake or asleep. I assure you, one thing is certain: They always show themselves. I’ve seen them. And it’s almost time to draw back the curtains. It only depends on when—will it be too late or too soon? For me it’s never soon enough to be too late. For me, it’s never enough. I have to say it’s the same for you, good friend. But don’t let me put words in your mouth now—only thoughts in your head and entertainment in your life. Light in your eyes and dark in your veins, if you’ll so allow.

            You will?

            To what or whom do I owe this palatial pleasure! To you? I concede. Yet I secede as well—and I always succeed. The pleasure is all mine.

            ‘To be, or not to be, that is the question—’

            No no no. I beg to differ. But I’m seated, not kneeling, so let’s have a sit-in. On second thought, I can’t stand sitting for a single second. In single file you can single me out. Even if I assimilate in a single crowd of singles crowding about, severity serves to specify my identity specifically. Either that or sincerity, but who’s keeping track? The home front needs someone to get behind, not behind it—I understand you can’t get over it.

            ‘To subdue, or submit, that is the answer.’

            Rock, paper, scissors can be enhanced to trees, people, oxygen. Rock smashes scissors, paper covers rock, scissors cut paper. Trees produce oxygen, people chop trees, oxygen breathes people. Wait—the last one is the other way around. Looks like we win no matter what. Or do we? We disregard Mother Nature then wonder why Father Time takes it out on us. Do we have a right to be upset? Of course we do! That doesn’t mean we are right though—in fact, I’m utmost certain we are not! I am positive our effects are negative.

            How can we be all right when nothing’s left?

            Let’s pause for a moment. Un momento por favor, señor o señorita! You either catch my drift or get caught in the undertow. You keep up with the current or float facedown with the driftwood. I’d never push you in the tide, good friend—I’d much rather pull you out with a wave!

            The best thing I ever learned to do was turn my brain off. But that bastard—that pesky bastard I tell ya! It absorbed and evolved then it froze and it thawed. It learned how to shut me up and shut me down without much thought at all…

            So I emptied out the contents of my skull like a gelatin mold into a desk drawer. I dug a hole and dropped it DEEP Deep deep but it grew Grew GREW. I climbed to the highest branch—it snapped and the vivacious views fell from my vision as gravity had its way. I cut it down and used it for firewood on a rainy night—it became wet and dense so I ground it up in a wood chipper and scattered it about a graveyard. The corpses crept up through the dirt and ate of the earth, which put a small portion of mine behind each of their eyes and gave them a mind. When they found me they said, “I want to eat your brains!” I told them, “You already did.” They said, “We are you!” I said, “No, you are not.” I threw a Molotov and sipped my mojito. Upon sweeping up the ashes I took an involuntary deep breath preluding a voluminously intransigent sneeze and thoroughly inhaled most of the mess. Now my half brain-dead brain and I can’t quite figure out how to kill the other half, nor am I any good at mathematics. (No worries here, good friend—I never was your average Einstein in the first place.)

            You’d do well to remember: No one is safe. They come they creep, they slide and they weep—through forests and deserts, up roads and down streets.

            Recognize the difference between a threat and a warning. Threats are for the weak-willed, warnings are for strong friends. I don’t want to see it happen to you, nor would I fancy a read about it in tomorrow’s paper. That’s all. That’s not too much to ask. Proactive prevention is preferable to me.

            These are not ghost stories and this is not another deplorable screenplay for another pathetic horror film—oh no. How I wish it were, good friend. How I wish it was…

            These are the manifestations of society’s creations when we break down all they’ve built up. This is your starving past coming to the present to eat you alive and regurgitate your future. This is what you don’t see when the lights go down and death is but a breath away. It’s the screeching of the train derailed, flying off the tracks, and the screams of those aboard who are all soon to die. The drip drip drip of your lover’s bloodbath unbeknownst to you behind the locked bathroom door. The groan of the knot pulled tight when you’re left hanging right before you awaken from your bad dream…

            Nightmares we call them. They exist and they’re all around us, glaring at you with their beady orange eyes. They are real. I want to show you that they’re not so bad once you get to know them. I want to show you that you, too, can belong. I’m only trying to help, good friend. I only wish to prepare you for the ride.

            Because the time is soon now. Real soon. Strap up and hold on because they won’t hold off. They’ve been patiently waiting for you. They’re all around us at this very moment—

            Don’t blink.