But, that was before I stared into the frozen

But, that was before I stared into the frozen blackness. Distance, depth it has no meaning there. No what really has meaning is when the blackness stares back. That night, the eyes

came again. They were unpredictable, but if you looked long enough, eventually you'd see them. You think I was imagining it? Those eyes in the dark? Come with me. I'm going back

to where I saw them and you'll never make fun of me ever again. You'll know how I feel. You'll- wait.. Did you s-see that? I saw them again. Now, right there! Don't tell me you are

n't seeing shadow people. There, he thumbed his nose. Now he's giving us the birdy. Wait, I think it's sign language. Could be a South African dialect. See! Now he's point at you.

Shadow people were everywhere. Some were cooking chicken, others were drinking tea. The birds flew overhead, looking to head south as usual. They didn't care. The cat slept.

To be honest, this humble narrator didn't care to dwell on the shadow people who cooked chicken or drank tea. We all do something similar and cast just as big a shadow. The cat had

three eyes, and a tendency to puke all over the good rug. but these tea drinking people enjoy him as the one oddity in there otherwise mundane lives

because he brought glad tidings and his own nifty tea service, cleaned the rug, seemed aware of his own failings, and would sometimes deliver portentous telegrams in an age when

people were afraid to answer the door, much less when said telegrams were delivered by one as rotund & jolly as he. But still he persisted,understanding the darkness of this world.