Boston Dig: Monster Chess

A Story by Abishai100

Does Boston-town jitters for mod-Earth world metaphysics invoke some prayers-shield for a citizen-of-jars?

A Boston superstition tale. Thanks for reading!

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I was living in Boston (New England) and started walking around during office-lunch break when I began noticing the whispering presence of 'phantoms' (or something!). I didn't know what to do/think, so I decided to start keeping this journal, to determine why my populism 'rich' town of schools/traffic/exchanges was suddenly host to some mystery-legion of darkness. I wanted to feel home-again, comfortable, safe, for social media life in general (Facebook-like!).

Sure, Boston area folks knew of the New England 'richness' of my town since the days of colonialism and the Boston Tea Party and mod-traffic for student 'culture' (given the multiple excellent schools/universities in this area of the American Homeland, like Harvard and Boston University). Why would phantoms descend to make my town somehow 'sullied' by everyday-life/transit/consciousness jitters of leviathan/uncertainty?

I knew the phantoms were somehow real, and I could somehow see/hear/feel them around me. They seemed like glowing lights of eerie presence, and I had to ask, "Was Boston somehow past colonialism glories, school-house rock, and transit/pedestrian/citizenry gold...and somehow become some cemetery host-land for things of eeriness?" America had seen much, and these 'phantoms' had me thinking the new American Homeland 'duty' was to infuse everyday life vitality with some prayer(s) of simplified shining jars (hmmm).