What have I done? God, why is this happening to me?
Jake rekindled his fire, and we sat in front of it, talking vaguely at first about family. Then, we moved on to his own situation, a succession of failed relationships that ended badly due to his own insomnia. I told him about Nina and I, and he nodded and smiled with genuine sympathy. The Uncle Jake I knew from long ago rose to the surface of the dirty, wild man that sat across the flames from me.
Talk circled back to the question of shadows, and Jake said he too had seen strange shapes at night. He said imaginary things had lurked in his bedroom, just as in mine. But he said he never saw the eyes, or the definite humanlike forms I told him about. That’s when I asked him about his old house, and the figure that had been draw...
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