Llyr felt the gaze even though there were no eyes to see. A pressure behind his own eyes, like remembering a nightmare he’d never dreamed.
“…byw…”
Llyr stared at the words again. byw byw —twice. Like a heartbeat. bray like a donkey’s cry, or a challenge. wyndwz —windows, misspelled on purpose, or spelled in a way that predated spelling. danlwd fyltrshkn byw byw bray wyndwz
“Him who?”
On the back of a torn napkin, tucked under his saucer. The ink was faded but deliberate, pressed hard enough into the fibers to leave a scar. It read: Llyr felt the gaze even though there were no eyes to see