As he played, he leaned over his beautiful, horrible guitar.

Matt walked to the police station with the tall grey lady at his side. No one saw them, and they saw no one. At the station, she stopped and gestured for him to continue on. Through the doors of the police station, he glanced back and saw the dark shape of a moose disappear into an alley.

Night was coming on. The sun had set, but there was still a glow of yellowy orange beyond the bare trees.

He began the next song, and people wept, beers and conversation forgotten, remnants from another world. They stared, their mouths gaping.

The last few days scared Mary Lou. Everything she thought was in the past had come back to haunt her. Everything that was sure, suddenly wasn’t.

Saying nothing as he sat down, he noticed the thin man in black as he stepped in and leaned against the back wall.

Miles from anywhere in an abandoned, overgrown farmyard, an old rusty red barn stood, its back broken and sagging. Beyond the trees, the sun had dipped below the horizon, smearing the deep blue sky with purples and oranges.

Tonight, the darkness seemed deeper, somehow menacing. Her dream had kept coming back to her, haunting her. Now, heading for her rehearsal, she felt nervous. Actually, it was more than nervousness. She felt a fear that she had never known before. What she was afraid of, she wasn’t sure, but she was.