My Grandfather Had a Way With Monsters

As a child, i slept in a bedroom full of a closet stuffed with long legged demons who could make it from one end of the room to the other in a single step. My strapped throat silence was born from night terrors when screaming was not enough. Instead, kicked the wall dhrew my first remembered breath the moment i heard thunder storm down the hall then burst through my door like a war on its way to a peace protest. Because of this come tonumer three, my granddad had a way with monsters. Standing like tha super hero in the doorway, he would split the night witha and say, all right, you, i swear to christ, i will turn on

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