There was little left of our party when the fire went out and shadows became only darkness. When the whispers got loud and the laughter faded.

The music we played became a drone, an echo bouncing through the oak, the maple and pine; till all was silence.

Just quiet.

And quiet leads to madness. And madness is too loud to fear.

So we ran from camp to camp. Screaming, crying, begging. Afraid. Our world unreal. We unrecognizable. Cartoons and caricatures. Madmen in the darkness.

Eventually we got home.

But when I looked in the mirror it was not my face.

originally published March 15, 2017