By David Ross
I always wondered why they were called night crawlers. The only time I encountered them was after an early morning thunderstorm on my way to work. Then they littered sidewalks and parking lots.
They looked lethargic when the sun was out—like dry onion rings. Nevertheless, I avoided stepping on them. Doing so supposedly meant bad luck.
At dusk, after working late, I almost made it back to my car before tripping on a crack.
Down I went.
The last thing I remembered was being dragged down into a hole in the ground among a horde of hungry, nocturnal, feeding worms.
Spun around, I like it. Well played 🙂
This long-time horror fiction fan loved it. However: How was the narrator able to tell the story–after being eaten by the worms??? Or is he still alive, suffering a fate worse than death???