Blurs

 

He’d seen them out of the corner of his eye all his life.

Dark blurs, mostly small, but some the size of a doorway, darting out of view as he turned to look.

When he was a tiny child, they didn’t bother him. Having no past experiences to draw from, he thought they were normal.

As an adult, he chalked it up to stress, or time of day, or just an over-active imagination.

Now, he was old, and he was ready.

He sat in his comfortable chair and quietly said, “It’s OK. You can come out now.”

And they did.