[ WP ] For the last few days , everyone on earth has seen shadows move out of the corners of our eyes .

They have always been there. Every child has seen the shadows, reaching from a cupboard door or lurking under the bed. Every girl has felt them lengthening behind her, chasing her down a deserted street. They reach out to us from the quiet corners of dark rooms, from the yawning mouth of unknown alleyways, from the forests where light is stifled and choked out. 
 
 They have always been there. Not many, and not strong, but always there. Perhaps one time in a thousand - in ten thousand - there were enough. Enough to reach out and truly touch. A child's bed that no one shines a light under, year after year, so that they grow and breed and hunger. A street where the houses lean towards each other drunkenly, restricting the sunlight to a narrow bar in the centre. The unattended places - the places where they can multiply undisturbed. 
 
 One time in ten thousand, they are strong. They reach out, offended by our brightness, feeding on our fear. And then people die - babies stop breathing, older men have heart attacks, young men are found who must have jumped. No one admits the real reason. It's ridiculous. Of course it did n't happen. Of course the shadows do n't stretch further than they should; of course these fears are irrational, childish, insane. 
 
 Deep down, we know. We've all felt the fear, all used light to banish them back. We may never admit it, but we know. Even the most staunch materialist, the most unimaginative accountant, has felt the chill at the back of their neck. We've all walked a little faster at imagined footsteps, felt the same small release of tension when directly under a streetlight. 
 
 One time in ten thousand. Enough to ignore. Enough to ascribe to `` natural causes''. Few enough that we do n't have to think about it at all. We can pretend we are n't afraid. 
 
 But now there are more of them. More shadows stretching from the corners of dusty rooms. The pool of light around each streetlight seems a little smaller every evening. And in the mornings, we find more bodies. More still forms in streets and cots. 
 
 What do we do if this continues? What do we do when they press so close that the lights go out?
