Shadows

This is less horror/mindfucky than my previous stuff that I've post here. I don't really know what I wanted to do with this, honestly. It was pretty much just stream of conciousness. I'll probably read this tomorrow and be like "What the fuck is this shit why did I write it oh god what have I done I had better go off myself with a gun." I shouldn't write at 3:00 AM. Also I started this earlier, but got distracted, saw the word program open like 20 minutes ago with one line in it. I couldn't leave it unfinished! ENOUGH RAMBLING. Here it is. I hope this doesn't suck. (PS STOCK TITLE UNTIL I THINK OF SOMETHING MORE FITTING I GUESS)

Shadows

Expressionlessly staring at the face before him, barely awake. Examining the little details. Y’know, the kinds of things you might not get at first glance. She has freckles going over her nose. Huh, who knew? You never realise how much goes over your head until you slow down, and really take the time of day. He let’s out a long, drawn out sigh. He would be content to lay here forever. Sleep is attempting to make a violent take-over of his body - to no avail of course. He glances at the alarm clock beside the bed. 3:19 AM. Late. Tired. So tired. Can’t sleep though, too much to see. He looks back at her face. The tips of her short, brown hair seem to turn red. Not the usual orange most people refer to as red when discussing hair. No, more of a crimson, like blood. 

Time passes.

Did he fall asleep? Yes, he must’ve. Wasted time, that. It’s 6:23 AM now. Light is creeping in through a blinded window, like a closed eye to the outside world. He stands up so as not to wake the woman sleeping beside him. He walks to the blind, and peers out, into the Earth in front of him. Shadowed forms writhe in the daylight. They do not fade, nor disappear. They seem to only feel mild discomfort. There really is no reprieve, is there? Not from this hectic living. They’ve learned to cope. The beings don’t seem to be hostile. No more than a human anyway. They walk through the streets, as if They cannot even see the men and woman who also occupy the space. Panic was the first reaction our little blue planet gave to these newcomers. Where did they come from you may be asking? We do not know, nor will we ever. They have no way of communicating with us. Humans can adapt to anything they say, and this is no different. We have completely adapted by now. The shadows appeared more than a hundred years ago. The man walks downstairs, to fix himself a bowl of cereal before work. He slowly and sleepily walks to the cupboard and grabs a box of cereal and a dish. He pours himself a makeshift meal and walks to the fridge to retrieve some milk. Opening the fridge, he realises that there is no milk. Damn. Still wearing his pajama bottoms, he puts on his shoes and walks out his door. The light is now burning above the horizon. He walks into the street. A shadow walks by. The man pays no heed to the dark being. Halfway down the street he happens to look down at his feet. He feels as though something is missing.