Author’s Note: This story is closely based on a nightmare I had, written up the following night and only modified enough to make some amount of sense.
(reading time: 12 minutes)
At sixty-three it was the oldest thing out there, living or inanimate. The house behind it was only forty-two. Everything older was off in the dark trees, grumbling, bundling up for the whipping wind of the late November night. The device was ready for anything, having weathered plenty of Cayuga winters already. Continue reading