Silent Carolers

Mark never cared for carolers. Too cheerful, too loud, too

fake. But the group outside his house that night was something different.

It started with humming, beautiful layered humming, the kind that vibrates through the

floorboards and settles into your bones. Mark opened the door

and froze. Five figures stood on his porch, bundled in old-fashioned coats,

snow melting on their shoulders, and not a single one had a mouth.

Their skin was smooth where lips should be, stretched tight, pale,

stitched shut by nature itself. Yet the humming grew louder, stronger,