Suburbia is quiet, simple, and unchanging.
When people come and visit me, I warn them that I live in an apartment complex that could be, almost literally, anywhere in the United States.
The trees aren’t really native, the houses are cookie cutters, and the nearby strip malls have… well, pretty much exactly the stores that you’d expect. Sure, there are some regional variations, but… still. You’d need to think about it for a minute or so to really place where in the country I live, without any other information.
But sometimes, something interesting pops up and scared the living crap out of me.
Like Tuesday evening, when I was walking home from the gym right after dusk, and I saw a floating toddler in the glare of a walkway lamp.
After my heart started beating again, it was pretty clear that this wasn’t, in fact a spectral apparition sent to consume my flesh and destroy my soul.
But I’ll tell you, it took far longer than it should for me to convince myself of that fact…