The Last Moron On Earth

Night falls and it is pitch black in the room.

I don't like this house at night.

I know that I am not alone, and the TV flicks on with a bang. Grating static greets my ears.

A radio also springs to life, wailing similarly. I am not bothered by either. I scratch one hand with the other.

I am not a horse in here.

I feel happy, and a voice breaks through the radio's static.

"-ink that did it; you should be able to he-"

The figure outside flickered erratically on the screen, and as I turned to look towards it I was once again a horse.

She screams alongside a burst of static, before it is quiet and dark once again in the room.

Everything lies still in the room.

I can't move.

I see movement outside the window.

I'm paranoid that I'm being tracked.

I cannot turn to look.

I am scared.