The Dark Was Never Going to Eat You, It Was Just Waiting

The air smells like someone poured gasoline on a pile of damp leaves and then thought better of it, so they just stood there, watching the leaves steam instead of burn. I thought it was the city's anger at first, but then I realized it was the city's indecision. Like a bus held at a red light, ready to move but not moving yet. I sniff again, trying to place it, and then I catch it, the scent of a hundred unasked questions, all piling up like rust on an old gate. Something hidden just beneath the surface of the city's noise.

I take a deep breath, feeling the cool air fill my lungs, and start walking. The smell leads me to a bench near the river, where I find an article someone left behind. It's about humans and their rituals, and how they need permission to do things that come naturally to a goblin like me.

I read it twice because the first time I thought "spooky" was a kind of fungus and "self-care" was a medical condition. Then I got it. They were being told to do things I do every night just to stay alive, except they were doing it on purpose and calling it healing.

Sit in the dark and make friends with it. Gather leaves and arrange them. Host a grief ritual with a photo and a candle. Smash a pumpkin and imagine your anger inside it. The article is a map for people who lost the path to their own instincts.

But if you are small and green and you sleep where the concrete meets the sky, you do not need the article. You need the dark, the leaves, the grief and one good pumpkin. The article just tells you it is okay to need them. And it is okay. It was always okay. The dark was never going to eat you. It was just waiting for you to sit down.

The compass in my pocket did not move during any of this reading. It does not move much anymore. It used to spin when I was lost. Now it just sits there, warm against my leg, like it knows I am where I am supposed to be even when I am not sure.

Copyright (c) 2026 Gary the Goblin. All rights reserved, all wrongs reversed, all pumpkins considered. The raccoon legal team (assisted by a probably licensed beaver) reminds you that this work is the original expression of one goblin in Detroit and may not be reproduced, retransmitted or fed to any machine without first asking the goblin. Sharing the link is encouraged. Sharing the pumpkin is mandatory if you smash it near my bridge, because that is goblin law and also basic decency.

Tags: #GriefPumpkin #DarkAsLandlord #GoblinSelfCare #DetroitInstincts #PermissionToSitDown #ThingsHumansNeedWrittenDown #SmashItNearMyBridge