Im sitting at my desk, mentally screaming for something profound to come to me. My fingers are poised on the keyboard, ready for this inspiration to come. My grandma died the other day and among the few things she left me is a doll. Now, I had never seen this doll before in my life, had no incling of familiarity with this…creature.

I use the word sparingly but i can’t really call this a doll. Like me, she is mentally screaming. I can hear her. So she must be alive. I sat her next to the computer to give me some inspiration but now that i look at her, there is something very wrong that i just can’t figure out. Maybe I’m getting paranoid.

Frustrated with myself I decide to get some coffee, regardless of the fact i probably don’t have any. But I return triumphent with my cup of stale coffee and hot water…somethings different. I sense it before i see it. The doll’s gone. On the screen words have appeared:

“It was a warm day in Pheonix when you noticed something wasn’t right…the dolls have come.”