Woke up and there it was—a black feather on my pillow. Didn’t feel cold. Felt like it had weight. Threw it in a drawer but kept thinking about the symbol under the loading dock. Maybe those things are connected. Maybe I’m just paranoid. Probably both.
Walking home and my shadow stretched like it was trying to keep up with someone behind me. I kept looking back and there was nothing but the neon. At the time I laughed it off. Now it feels like an invitation.