It is chilly at this time of day. My breath fogs the air, but the sharp nip of the cold is wonderfully alerting. I feel the crunch of the frosted leaves underfoot, and close my eyes. The sound is calming. But suddenly, there is no crunch. I feel as if I am walking on glass. I start awake from my daze and look down. I still am seemingly walking on leaves, but I cannot be. They do not yield beneath my feet, their shapes as I step on them are perfectly maintained. I stoop down and feel the ground. Sure enough, it is as smooth as glass. I tentatively continue walking along this strange surface, sure this is my own illusion, until the ground suddenly begins to shudder! Slowly, the glassy ground rises in different shapes to collaboratively create a strange monster! It emerges from the ground, as clear as glass, and as large as a small tree. Two eyes are distinguished as two bulges in what is obviously it's head. They seem to be sorrowful eyes. It's body is similar to a human, but it is very thin, and its arms almost reach the ground.

I stare for an moment, then, only with the uncanny directness of his silent tone do I realize what he is. I have only heard tales of Morning Dew, and their defeat to the heat of the sun each morning. He is a spokesman of the dew itself, and seeks to finally claim his territory of the earth's surface.

I woke up today a new person. No, not a person. Different. I can't see very well. I can't feel anything, but I can move. Fast! This was the best part -being in one district at one moment, and another in less than a minute. At least, I thought it was the best part. But I smelled something... enticing. Something that drew me in. It made me feel a certain kind of hunger. Not of the body, but of the mind. It gave me a certain kind of familiar feeling. I forgot exactly what it was, but I've forgotten a lot of things. Mostly everything. The only thing I seem to know is how to use a pen. The strokes that I make are interesting, and deft. I don't even know why I write this, but it is soothing after that meal. My, that meal gave me a rush. When I smelled that tangy smell my unfeeling legs ran of their own accord towards it. And there it was. I don't know what it was... no I do now! It was a person! Not like me though.

It had words. But this thing could write words straight from its mouth. It wrote, "Penelope? Your a... zombie! No, no, no! I'm so sorry! I lost you! I tried to protect you! Please! Penelope! Please hear me! You've got to be in there!"

I tried to comprehend its words, but the smell was overpowering, and it led me right to the thing.

It felt so good to feel something in my mouth. The only thing I can feel and taste, and it tasted good! Now I must find more. I won't be satisfied until my next meal.

I forgot how to write, read, laugh, talk, and dance at the same time I remembered that my significant other was waiting for me beside the yellow winding steps that I forgot to sweep the day before yesterday that also happened to be a Sunday before the Easter Sunday that I was so looking forward to after a terrible thanksgiving filled with chocolate and little mini candy cupcakes that had no taste when you bit into them, but did when you covered them in homemade cheese dip that was left on the counter from the burglar that breaks in sometimes to raid our refrigerator and replace all our ketchup with homemade jams and jellies that we have been hesitant to eat because of fear of poison, but unable to stop because the sliminess and creaminess mixed in together is a heavenly reminder that life does have something to give and that we are all, in our way, hesitant to take initiative, work hard, and push our limits beyond everyday life where it is cushiony, warm, and full of noticeably predictable outcomes if we go in the direction that sets us on the path of the luxurious success that is certainly not available to everyone, but that everyone can strive to achieve even if it means being chided about living your own life.

"Stanley. We're waiting." The stern voice came from downstairs where my wife stood. One hand holding a birthday cake for me, the other resting on her hip, one finger impatiently tapping. All around her were my "friends" from the office.

Yes. Even my boss, Churchill was standing there. Always on the lookout for a flaw in one of his employees, he couldn't have looked more overjoyed to find one. His star employee was an introvert! Well! I certainly wouldn't be nominated for anymore employee of the month awards!

I pulled the door shut again, sweat beaded on my forehead. My worst fear -conversation- was lurking just below me!