She went inside. Boiled water for tea. Left the lights on.
She tried to exorcise herself—cleansing rituals from the internet, sage from the farmers' market, a therapist who called it "anxiety." But the bedevilment wasn't in her head. It was in the calendar. Every date felt possessed. Every anniversary, a trap. bedevilled 2016
The devil, for now, stayed in the dark. Would you like a different tone—more literal, political, or horror-focused? She went inside