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classic ‹ horror › image — face
impassive , distrustful of both
the ostentation & the person .
no room for basic sentimentality .
‘ question’s offensive . . mother .’
concludes with chilling smile
and gesture — resume preparations .
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀✰⠀Turned around, still holding the knife she was using to prepare his sandwich, her smile as wise as ever.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀❛ㅤMy dear Five, this is your home, you will always belong here.
Coffee with your sandwich? ❜
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appreciates dodging danger—
knew slippery ground was despised.
what’s the worst that could happen ?
‘ . . . you know i’m not-
don’t fit in here .’
more cutting — seeking any sign
of ‹ humanity › though clearly futile .
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‘ asking the obvious — ’
voice steady , fingers tapping
a mechanical , unconscious rhythm.
attention fixated on cobwebs
gathering in neglected corners .
‘ when was this place last occupied ? ’
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀✰⠀❛ㅤPeanut butter and jelly? Like when you were little? ❜
Humming a little tune as she gathered what she needed to prepare a sandwich for him, smiling non-stop.
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀❛ㅤAre you okay, my sweet boy? You look nervous. ❜
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀✰⠀❛ㅤSit, what would you like to eat? ❜
Oh, she is so happy to see him, so, so happy. No one needs her to cook for them around the house anymore!