It was a dark, cold, and rainy Winters morning when I found myself suddenly wanting a little bite to eat. The streets were unlit, damp, and wet. The stores, shops, and cafés all closed. Nay donut or coffee mug in sight. Sunrise was not for several more hours. I worried about not; why should I. I could sense the presence of smaller creatures stalking in the shadows hiding from whatever might eat them. So then I say to be is what eats them. With a wiggle and a slight twist, I am now their worst fear, desiring to eat them. Excuse me as I pause in this dark alley. I must change my presentation to you. I do know you need to see me like you want me to be seen. Well, satisfied and nourished, another twist and wiggle. None the wiser, back to my exploration of this sleeping town. Sweet dreams, and never mind me, I am attentive to normal’s obtuse pareidolia.
Observations from a journey:
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