The Incident of the Imp

A kid…in a costume. It had to be.

Still, it was frightening. To think I almost hit the poor little guy.

Maybe it was a good thing that the costume was so good, so convincing. The sickly yellow glow-in-the-dark contacts. The pro-quality fang fixtures. That tail that almost looked as if it were whipping back and forth on its own. I thought it was some animal I’d almost hit. That would have been bad enough. If I’d known it was a kid, I might have panicked and lost control of the car. Maybe I would have hit him.

But Halloween was days ago. Was some kid having his last hurrah? Loved his costume so much, he decided to keep wearing it?

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Detective Day

The visions. I’d had them all my life. They’re tricky to read, like tarot cards. Vague sometimes, like dreams. When I was a kid, I would tell my mom, and she had this way of pretending it was normal while still keeping it secret. By the time I became aware that my ability was unique, I knew how to hide it. I started to teach myself how to control it, and soon enough, how to use it.

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