La Zona Muerta

You know this, deep down in the parts of your soul where even your loved ones can’t touch. When the hackles on your neck raise for no real reason you can pinpoint, when a shape darts just outside of your peripheral vision. A sound that shouldn’t be there, a shadow.

There are some truths that are self evident, some universal axioms. Some things you know that are true, deep in your gut.

Soggies.

May.

Rule.