Category: Mr. Gloom
It’s been a good few weeks since Mr. Gloom miraculously saved me from a drunkard wandering in the basement. Initially, I feared his noble deed might have very…
There are days when everything seems perfect. Good days lull your vigilance. They undermine such a meticulously woven sense of reality.
We are at a club. Me, the rest of the class, and some other people I don’t know. Apparently, they know Staniec, because they are here today, and…
My senses register objects faster than my brain. Today, it’s the scent of decay. A nature’s brutal art in the safe hands of professionals.
Where geometry ends and anatomy begins. A watercolor study of an infinite universe trapped within the limits of a radius, and the skin.
It stands in the corner of our basement; from a distance, it looks like an old coat. I suspect my parents won’t notice it anyway—besides, they rarely come down here now.
In my view, Mr. Gloom is a perfect being. He never specifically demands to be fed; he never screams, never judges. He simply endures, never refusing me anything that wouldn’t be contrary to his nature.
The basement is my true home. This is where I spend my most important time. My time. Yes. The basement is a good place.
I have Mr. Gloom in my closet. He appeared in my life inexplicably. One day, I simply found him in a corner of the basement hallway. He stood…