S.G. Browne

H.P. Lovecraft Day Care Center

I find myself unable to deal with the horrors that confront me each morning as the clock strikes eight times and the bone chilling shrieks of hellish monsters assault my sensibilities.  I can barely breathe at the frightful stench, can barely hear my thoughts through the endless screams, can barely keep from succumbing to madness at the hideous sight of mucous flowing from noses, spilling over lips, and spraying out in long, ichorous ropes and foul mists into the fetid air of my home.

Curse the spirits that compelled me to open this day care center.

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Filed under: Random Fiction — S.G. Browne @ 8:39 pm

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