Day 403

Of all the things your grandmother owned, that electric photo frame was the worst.
The photos on it used to be of you and your family but it kept flickering to other people.
People that wore the same clothing and looked almost identical but not quite human.
It would always take you a while to notice if the faces smiling at you were your family's.
They rarely were as of recent.

It seemed that the longer it was plugged in, the stranger and more grotesque the people became.
The worst so far was your uncle, his eyes were so sunken you could barely see them.
His beard looked like it had been dipped in blood, shiny red drips seemed to fall from the ends.
His teeth looked too large for his mouth and so shiny you could actually see your reflection on them.
Even the background had changed, the car he was in front of had gained a passenger.

Their face was a distorted mockery of a human, skin the colour of rust and peeling like it too.
Your grandmother appeared to never notice these changes, always looking fondly at the images.
Nobody ever talked about the things that had made their home in those precious memories but
you caught them looking worriedly and glancing away quickly if they saw you watching them.
Still, they were getting worse, the people were moving closer to the edge of the frame.