
Is it daybreak? Who could tell. The dark pervades, day and night, but no one has seen
the sky in ages. The windows stay covered, to keep the light in, what light there could be
with no electricity and few candles. If we had known the last time we saw the sun would
be the last time it would ever crawl across the sky, what would we have done differently?
At first, we waited for daybreak. We counted the hours, listening for the telltale notes
of birdsong. It’s been so long since anyone has heard anything resembling birdsong, now.The hum persists. That low and droning, nauseating sound. It hits that nerve in our
throats that makes us feel like turning inside out. But we hardly notice it, really. Once we
smother the windows and doors with blankets and pillows to keep it out, we can only just
notice it. We’ve almost perfected the process of washing and sanitizing those disposable
foam earplugs.The earplugs don’t keep the voice from reaching us, though. Believe me, we’ve tried.
J.M. Striker
It used to say innocuous things, like “burn an extra candle today, go ahead!”
But now, it’s telling us to go outside.
Jillian is a freelance writer and editor based in Austin, TX. When not writing articles on Medium, editing, or cooking, she is a voracious reader of fiction and discerning connoisseur of film and television as well as an aerial silks enthusiast.
Jillian ‘s first venture with Madness Heart Press was the Creeping Corruption anthology.

Creeping Corruption Anthology
16 stories by some of the freshest and best horror writers working today. Dig in, and feast on the corruption.