Strange: The Senior Young Writers Group Zine 2023

had died to. They feared that they were contaminated. They did
not wonder if it was they who inflicted the disease.
A man told his son he was scared. That though his
fellow adults had seen the women’s face embedded with fear,
they did not understand. Did not understand the way her skin
had flattened to her bones, like it was clinging to safety. Did
not understand the way her outstretched hand was curved up,
like she wanted someone to hold hers. Did not understand the
way his eyes could not look away from her face, like a spiral of
horror, getting worse as he let his gaze be devoured.
They did not emerge. And neither did his wife when she
returned from her friend’s house for tea.
5:04pm
The children danced in the corn fields surrounding the village.
Some of them worried when their neighbours dragged them
from their houses’. Said their parents had adult things to do,
and to go and play in the fields, enjoy the sun.
An older teen skepticized. The children were not to play
in the fields. Not in the night. Not in the day. Not when their
parents were in there. Not to go in with their parents.
But he went. Trusted that the adults just had to deal
with adult things. And that soon he would be part of that too.
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