Temperance
an excerpt

The town of Temperance had always been a peaceful one. It was quiet, secluded, and mostly forgotten by the growing world, as though it were protected by the wood that grew thick all ‘round it.

Thomas Thatcher had walked home from his best friend’s house a hundred times or more, so there was no reason that on this evening it should make him feel uneasy. Even in the growing twilight casting everything around him into shadow – normally it was his favorite time of day, and he enjoyed the cool air. Tonight he felt jumpy. Perhaps it was because he and John had spent the day watching horror films – yes, that was almost certainly it, and how ridiculous was that? – but his heart was thudding in his chest as he skirted around the park. Normally he would have walked through, perhaps even paused to sit on the swings for awhile and watch the sun disappear behind the tops of the trees. But tonight the familiar shapes of the slide and the swingset didn’t seem so inviting. They were looming.

The boy laughed at himself, shrugging his backpack more securely onto his shoulder. He was twelve. He was much too old to be flinching at shadows and seeing monsters in stationary objects. Though somewhat forced, he managed to keep what he imagined to be a carefree smile on his face as he started over the footbridge spanning Temperance’s small river. His house was only five minutes away.

He never got there.