Kentucky Gothic
You sit at a diner that’s been around for at least fifty years. The hum of the fan lulls you into a sense of peace. You stare down at a menu that hasn’t changed since the diner opened and you read the words “H e l p M e” under the beverage options.
You order coffee but you get tea. The tea is sweet, too sweet. It’s red, too. You take another sip and it has a metallic taste. You put the cup down and stare into it.
You get your receipt. The total is $6.66. The waitress whispers a prayer under her breath.
The cemeteries are old. Everyone’s grandfathers are buried here. You walk by a grave and it’s fenced off from everyone else. Some of the prongs at the top of the gate are bent inward and outward. You feel watched.
A vulture watches you everywhere you go.
The roads are endless. They lead to nowhere. Google Maps can’t find where you are. It keeps rerouting. You look down at your phone and when you look up, you’re parked in a dusty parking lot. You’re outside of a broken down farmhouse. A tire swing gently swings in the breeze just outside of it. There is a single child’s shoe just a few feet from the barn.
Deer watch you from the Woods. There are many. Some have eyes that glow red.
Was that a goat or a man? Or….both?
You walk through the cornfield. You’ve heard of the spiders. The corn sways in the breeze and it sounds like whispers. They’re speaking to you. They’re speaking backwards. You turn to see something skittering past some corn stalks. It had too many legs.
A plate of biscuits and gravy is set down on the table in front of you. You take a bit out of it. It’s salty. You look down and you notice something moving under the gravy.
“They said he hung the moon.” You look up at the night sky. The moon is bleeding, a man sways in the summer breeze in a tree.
ｗｈａｔ'ｓ ｏｎ ｙｏｕｒ ｍｉｎｄ?
ｓｕｂｍｉｔ ｄｅｃａｙ
submission: @rowenalovegood