THE SHARK CHRONICLES: POSTCARD THE THIRTY-FIFTH

The postcard for Ohio didn't specifically appear to be Ohioan, but Darren had never been there, so he figured no wasn't one to make that determination. It seemed to be a handmade postcard, however- a photo glued upon a piece of card stock paper. There was some handwriting on the front, and as faded as it was, Darren could just make out the following: Jolly Hal oween from Gret hen and Bruc in F lh 195. The same handwriting was on the back, Darren noted as he began to read

THE ARITHMETIC OF MEMORY

You peer out from behind your curtain. You can remember a time you weren’t afraid to let the sunlight streaming through your windows, to have your rooms visible to outsiders. You can remember a time when you weren’t afraid to venture outside at any hour, and wave at your neighbors. When you could sit and eat a meal in peace.

But all that has changed, since the broadcast. Since the newscaster talked about the monster who lives at 4851 Galloway Lane, your street. The monster who has been abducting and killing the children of your town. Abducting them, starving them, suffocating them, then burying the blade-mutilated bodies out in the woods beyond the suburbs. A true monster.

You shiver. Hopefully, it will all be over soon. The news also said that the police were close to catching the monster who had eluded them for so long, the monster  which they had finally cornered at 4851 Galloway Lane with the monster’s latest victim, who was hopefully still alive. It will only be a matter of time now. Then the monster will be gone.

You move the curtain aside a little more, quickly scanning the street. You can see a police car parked nearby. And another. Are those sirens you hear? You release the curtain, wheezing a bit. The near-crippling  anxiety again, the same old anxiety that has plagued you since you were a child. You clench your hands as the sirens grow louder.  Your left hand feels strange. You look down, and see the knife in your fist. The blood is still wet enough to drip onto your leg and the floor. 

Then you remember: you live at 4851 Galloway Lane.