Ubiquitous

By Douglas Triggs

The clicks and squeals in his head subsided. No one else could understand them except him. No one else could even hear them. But they’d always been there, ever since he could remember. They hadn’t meant anything at first, not until he was older, well into his teenage years. They said terrible things — disturbing things — but still he could ignore them, even if he didn’t dare tell anyone about them.