Every night Paige Brady went to bed a scared eight-year old girl and awoke a still sleepy twenty-eight year old woman. Otherwise she led a normal, if not lackluster life. Paige worked four days a week at The Bent Spine, a local bookstore two blocks from her apartment. The day John Porcher interviewed Paige he squeezed his six foot tall frame behind a paper ridden desk and smiled under his heavy beard.

“Now I know you have a variety of past jobs listed here and I’m sure you have loads of experience. Every girl I’ve interviewed today seems to have plenty of experience, but I want you to know something. It’s not a hard job and I expect you to keep the place tidy and the numbers neat. I catch you stealing any of my books and you’re out on your ass right quick. If you ask first I’ll let you borrow any books you want. You had just better bring them back in pristine condition. No dogging the pages or breaking the spines. Any questions?” Porcher blurted out in a fast paced staccato that left Paige’s mind reeling for a moment.

“Does this mean I have the job?” She inquired. Porcher took on a look of seriousness and struggled for a moment to hold fast to the expression, but all at once he broke into a rumbling laughter.

“Of course it means you get the job. You’re just as experienced as the other girls and I think it would be a damned hoot to have a girl named Paige working in my bookstore.” Porcher pointed to the next Thursday on the calendar above his desk. “You’ll start the twenty-fifth. I expect you to be here at eight. I’ll be busy in here going through this mess of orders. I want the front room swept and dusted. I’ll get you a set of keys and the alarm code. I’ll be glad to have some company in the shop.” Porcher grabbed up Paige’s hand for a hearty shake. Her hand was tiny in his and she couldn’t help but feel like a child shaking hands with a giant. It had been a good day in June as far as Paige was concerned.

Three years later Paige was managing most of the books for Porcher and she helped hire Alex Holbright, a new clerk for the holidays. He was not the brightest man she had ever met, but she could she he needed the money and he promised to work hard. So far he had held true to his word. She would let Alex in every morning at eight. By nine the floor was spotless, the books dusted, and the brass on the banisters polished. He seemed to take great pride in the great lengths he would go to magic away every spot of dirt. A typical conversation with Alex always circled around the new scent of Mop and Glo or the particularities of a certain polish over another. Work at The Bent Spine was simple and relaxing. It was here where Paige felt the safest.

Paige’s apartment was a different story. She lived in the top floor apartment of a three story brick monolith. One of the taller buildings in town, thirty-five Howard Ave, overlooked Aaldenberg Memorial Park. Every night she went down her mental checklist: Lock the deadbolt on the door, close and lock the windows, make sure the desk still shoved against the heating vent, stopper the bathtub and sinks, and finally make sure the hunting knife is still behind the nightstand. Sleep would not come easily if Paige did not go through her ritual. The few times she brought a man home her strange habits usually ended in her waking up alone in bed wondering fearfully if he had locked the door on his way out.

This night was no different for Paige. She sipped at a cup of chamomile and catnip tea. The warm liquid soothing her nerves. “Leave the window open tonight.” The sane voice in Paige mused. It’s stifling. You could use the air.
“No. You know we can’t. We lost the charm.” In her mind, Paige’s voice sounded small, and whiney.
“That piddling thing? It was horse hair and weeds your uncle found in the barn. You know it was worthless. Don’t be a child, Paige.”
“I can’t. I’m afraid.”
“Stupid fucking child. One of these days you’ll grow out of this crap. Just you wait.” The argument was over for the evening. Once again her fear had won out. No matter how many years past Paige just couldn’t stop believing in the chitterings.

Paige and her sister Alice decided to call them chitterings once night huddled under the covers of Alice’s bed. They could hear the tiny clips and chatter outside in the night. Their mother chided the girls for their fear and father only sighed. Chitterings were just another story of monsters under the bed. To the girls this was different. They had seen the strange whispers of form whenever they forgot to look. Out of the corners of their eyes a dark form no larger than a cat or sometimes the shadow of what could have been a man would skitter out of view. By the time their eyes snapped to attention the shadows had vanished. In the daylight or at night, the light did not seem to bother the creatures. The only difference was at night they spoke. Paige asked her mother once to listen. “It’s only the frogs and crickets. Be a good girl and go to sleep. Come on I’ll tuck you in.” She pulled the covers up tight over Paige and with a kiss on the forehead she was gone. Paige listened to her footsteps until she went downstairs. Her mothers kiss chilled on her skin as the breeze from the open window passed over it. Slipping out of bed Paige walked to the window an listened. Silence met her ears. Quietly she said a little prayer.

“Dear God, could you please just keep them from chittering tonight? That’s all I want. Okay?” As if in answer the sounds began.



Paige awoke at six am still tired. The night had not been kind to her. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes driving the nightmares out of her memory. Thinking back she could only remember a sweet smell. The memory terrified her and she could not recall why it should. She ran a hand through her long red hair and felt the slickness of the cold sweat still clinging to it. “Pull it together Paige” She mumbled and forced herself to march into the kitchen in search of coffee.


A volley of curses followed a loud crash in the hallway. Paige hesitated a second to make sure the sun had risen and then slipped silently across the floor in her bare feet. She peered through the peephole to spy a man busily sweeping pieces of a lamp into a box with a folded newspaper. Paige grabbed a broom from the closet. The man started as she opened the door.
“Ah hell, sorry if we woke you.” His eyes quickly slid up from Paige’s boxers and tanktop.
“No, no. Not at all. I was just making breakfast when I heard the crash. It will probably be easier to sweep that up with this.” She proffered the broom and the man smiled. Paige caught herself staring into his dark blue eyes. The bit of grey, almost silver, that creeped into the irises reminded her of storm fronts. She blushed and smiled back.
“Thanks. I’m Evan by the way. My daughter Vicky is wandering around here somewhere. We’re just moving in down the hall.” A twinge of disappointment wormed its way into Paiges thoughts. Evan took the broom and began pushing the last of the broken glass into the box. “Vickey’s mother isn’t around anymore so it’s just us. I figure a new place, new town should do her some good.

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