Summer was over. Time had passed, wounds have had time to heal- and it would be risky leaving the godforsaken statue in the woods for some naive passerby to find. Stan wasn’t sure where he had gotten the idea- it had just popped into his head one morning- and had, at the time, seemed innocent enough.
And so, after convincing Soos that it was a good idea for business- it helped that man hardly ever went against his word anyway- Stan had managed to drag it back to the Mystery Shack to become a permanent fixture- a reminder of the day that the world nearly ended- put on display. The only rule- nobody was allowed to touch- they must stay at least three feet back and admire it from afar.
So why was he suddenly whispering to one of the tourists, a little girl who had wandered away from her mother, that she could be an exception and step over the line. A small, slight brush of the fingers wouldn’t hurt. Right? She seemed skeptical after hearing the stories surrounding the statue. Still, he smiled and told her it added to the local lore- and that’s all it was- a story.
The girl, against her better judgement, crossed over the line. She stepped towards the statue, wary, glancing back at the man and then for her mother, who was still milling about somewhere in the proximity. Stan gave her a thumbs up and she reached her hand out-
Where was he getting these ideas.
“Kid- wait- don’t touch that-” he shouted, putting a hand up to his head as though in a reverie.