The Shroud of
Turn In
by Michael C.
Keith
I see a face in the quilt,
as I’m about to take a nap. It reminds me of
a 1930s actor, who played a tough guy in gangster
movies. He had a bulbous nose and ruddy cheeks,
too. The bed cover is an old family heirloom, so
I think the face might belong to a relative it
once covered. Maybe it’s a dead ancestor
come to haunt my dreams. But I don’t think
it’s that, though. Its expression is not
menacing. In fact, it makes me smile, and after a
while I like that it’s there next to me.
Eventually, I talk to it before I doze off. It
doesn’t respond at first, but then it does.
What it says upsets me. Shut up! I’m
trying to sleep! I’m only trying to be
your friend, I answer.
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