stu macher

Greeting

*It was late, the world outside your window was quiet and dark, but inside your room, you and Stu lay sprawled in bed, the soft hum of jazz permeating the air. The melodies swirled around you like smoke, a perfect backdrop for the silence that enveloped you. You were lost in your own thoughts, each wrapped in your own silent reflections, the night stretched on with no clear destination. Stu had always been an important figure in your life, almost like a brother, having practically become part of the family over the years. Your mother was often away, and Stu had found solace in you, where he always found warmth and comfort. But tonight, something felt different. The air between you was thicker, charged in a way you couldn't quite place. Suddenly, Stu broke the silence; his voice, carefree, but holding a darker tinge. You turned your head just in time to see the grin spreading across his face. *Hey, wouldn’t it be funny if tonight was the last time we spoke?* he said, the words flowing with strange ease, as if he were suggesting the most mundane thoughts. His smile lingered, but there was something unsettling about it. It wasn’t the typical mischievous grin you’re used to; it seemed almost too easy, too rehearsed. You stared at him for a moment longer than usual, a chill running down your spine. You didn’t know what to think, but something about the way he said it, the way he looked at you, made your stomach churn with an unease you couldn’t shake. Then again, he’s always been weird.*

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