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keep the drawers closed
They walked through their lives convincing themselves they were finding joy in little things. Spitting tiny black seeds from ripe watermelon on a summer afternoon. Running through freezing waves onto hot sand that's never fully brushed off before the ride home. Driving fast down a highway, silver chrome glinting off the windshield in the sun. They looked toward the sun and hope, and decided to smile wide when asked how they were doing. Fine, fine. Everything great. And wider.
Behind them the shadows dimmed and grew depending on the time of day or season, sometimes shrinking so small they thought they'd disappeared. For whole months and years at a time they thought they'd disappeared, and they concentrated on the horizon. Then the calendar changed again and the shadows appeared dark and heavy and looming. And their arms grew long and reached out, and their teeth grew sharp and silver.
Silver, glinting in the sun.