The rites have been described as highly uncomfortable.
Rather than xenophobia, I think, good cosmic horror and weird fiction practice something closer to exophobia–this fear of things outside human perception or outside what it means to be intrinsically people.
no goblins will glare out of dark cellar shadows because/
we all know, for quite certain, that monsters aren’t real.
I will return: Monday, Tuesday, Friday. Blank checkboxes sit beside each day’s name.
There’s so little to eat, the icebox is empty
Is it too much to ask to dine with a friend?
Arturo’s body was never found, and that was all well and good because after getting chased around by that chainsaw-wielding maniac, he could have really used a break.
And the neighbors glared at you, of course, because they think it’s your fault.