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[FICTION] Tales from Port Astor | Whispers 2

 "Hello caller, you are on the air."


"Every morning, I cross the Nimitz Bridge from North Astor into the city. Every morning, I see the billboard for Mooredock, Donnelly, and Ross; their fake-in-their-perfection smiles. The sign reads that I need to call them."

"Every evening, I cross the Nimitz Bridge from the city into North Astor. Every evening, I see the billboard for Mooredock, Donnelly, and Ross in my rear-view mirror; their eyes wide in a savage glee. They tell me that they know what I’ve done."

"I drive up the hill that overlooks the channel up to my spacious home, minimalist in design and furnishing. I open the several locks that secure the door of my home, and just as quickly secure them once inside. The dark of the house in sharp contrast to the light peering in from the large bay windows, rendering the space in monochromatic amber and black."

"Every night, I stare from my house at the Nimitz Bridge. Every night, I see the billboard for Mooredock, Donnelly, and Ross; their faces illuminated in sickly yellow street light. They tell me that neither distance nor dark will hide me forever."

"I turn and walk away from the window view, and to the door leading to the basement—sweat beginning to seep from me. I check that the door is secure for the seventh time since coming home. I feel the door still as immovable as the last time. From beneath the door, I hear an ethereal whisper “Why? Why? Why?”. This would terrify me beyond sense if I had not grown accustomed."

"Every morning, I cross the Nimitz Bridge from North Astor into the city. Every morning, I see the billboard for Mooredock, Donnelly, and Ross; their fake-in-their-perfection smiles. The sign reads that I need to call them."

"Every evening, I cross the Nimitz Bridge from the city into North Astor. Every evening, I see the billboard for Mooredock, Donnelly, and Ross in my rear-view mirror; their eyes wide in a savage glee. They tell me that they know what I’ve done."

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