Marsupialia Poster Print by kelzuki
Margot met Robert on a Wednesday night toward the end of her fall semester. She was working behind the concession stand at the artsy movie theatre downtown when he came in and bought a large popcorn and a box of Red Vines.
“That’s an … unusual choice,” she said. “I don’t think I’ve ever actually sold a box of Red Vines before.”
I’d call this a horror story if it weren’t so mundane, and yet I don’t think there’s any way to read it and not feel a huge, cold creeping horror. As one of my twitter mutuals said, it has a level of extraordinary specificity that is also a collective experience and the result is skin-crawling.
This is terrifying because I can guarantee you that you will (if you haven’t already) meet a man like this.
i feel emotionally drained on a level i havent felt in years after reading this
