If you build it, it will come.  The longing of each hallway toward dark rooms.  We built the labyrinth around the monster and there he lived for years, feeding on the bones of us til we were picked clean. Til we nested in the corners of the rooms like swallows. the shadows that occasionally moved in the corner of the eye and sighed with the curtains.  You'd be certain the house was haunted, but the house haunted us. Wanted for blood and the whistling scream of wind as the door slammed open again and again in my brother's mind.

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A girl builds a monster in the field. Mud and sticks and old bottlecaps for eyes. She calls him brother and tries to make him speak, but he keeps falling over. Keeps tumbling into the creek when she looks away Before t...

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