The sunset blurred before him. The dying pink sky mixed cut sharply against the inky black of the sea. While part of him wondered why he had started to tear up, he was more preoccupied by the overwhelming need to move.

It went beyond discomfort. The talons of the impulse dug into his gut, and began to twist. Before he could understand these feelings, he started to run.

His feet were flying, he was running now. His bike was left behind, locked to a park bench that was half buried in sand. It was strange, this urgency that gripped Calvin. It felt as if his head were being pressed together between a clamp. The pressure grew as someone continued to twirl the handle, tightening the clamp bit by bit.

The pressure was so great, it felt like his head had started to warp, but he couldn’t stop running. He had the odd sense that he was running from something that he couldn’t shake. Something oppressive that swirled around him, a miasma that he could feel breathing in his ear. He ran faster, but could gain no distance.

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His feet carried him home, his breathing coming in ragged gasps as he placed his hand on the doorknob, and all at once, the pressure released. Nothing whispered in his ear, but a soft breeze that blew across his sweat soaked skin, making him shiver.

He flew up the three porch steps, and opened the door to his home. Inside, it was dark and gloomy. Calvin stood in the doorway, a pale shaft of light piercing the darkness, his shadow framed and stretching out on the floor. It was his home, and yet, it felt like some place else. Like the air had changed. It was as if someone else had been sulking around, breathing the air, and making it to stale and stuffy.

There was no movement in the dark as there was no one else in the small home. Calvin shut the door behind him, and the darkness became complete. He was there, all alone.