Closet
by Melissa Mead
There's a mystery light in my bedroom closet. Kind of bluish-white. It comes on shortly after I turn out the lights. The first time, I turned on the lamp to look around, and saw nothing. I turned the lamp off, and it was dark. After a bit, the light came on again. It's bright enough to be distracting, but not enough to really illuminate anything.
It makes no sound.
There is no light source in that closet. Nothing reflective. Just clothes.
Nothing's shining through the nearby windows. Just in the closet.
I've gotten up and looked in there every night for the past two weeks. Nothing but clothes.
Some nights they're my clothes. Sweaters, mostly, with birds and cats on them. A pink wooly bathrobe.
One night it was a red velvet ball gown with torn lace on the hem.
There's been a leather jacket that smelled like tobacco and had a round hole over the heart, and embroidered vests, and a sheety thing that I think was a toga. The toga had blood on it. The blood was still wet. It came off on my fingers.
But there's nothing to be afraid of. It's just my closet.
And they're just clothes.
The End
This story was first published on Wednesday, September 30th, 2015
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