There's always been something odd about the flat next door. The air around it seemed to vibrate and distort anyone who walked through it, making them look more like monsters than men. You'd feel it happening as you passed by their doorway - that itching in your scalp where horns might sit, the ache in your jaw from all those extra teeth settling in, the way your eyes would dart to the closest moving object like they'd just been delivered to your table on a platter.
Much as I'd like to chalk it down to second-hand drug smoke I've had the dubious honour of seeing their door open. There doesn't seem to be a flat there you know, just this endless void that feels like its tugging at your soul, gently taking it by the hand and leading it straight into Wonderland.
A part of me went into the flat and I don't know which part but I don't think I'll ever see it again.
Much as I'd like to chalk it down to second-hand drug smoke I've had the dubious honour of seeing their door open. There doesn't seem to be a flat there you know, just this endless void that feels like its tugging at your soul, gently taking it by the hand and leading it straight into Wonderland.
A part of me went into the flat and I don't know which part but I don't think I'll ever see it again.
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