I stepped out into the yard early in the morning, almost automatically, with my phone and a cup of coffee in my hands.

It’s strange how quickly the familiar can turn alien. A yard you’ve crossed a thousand times without thinking suddenly feels hostile, as if something ancient and indifferent has surfaced just to remind you how fragile your sense of normal is. Those glistening, tangled bodies weren’t monsters, just earthworms suffocating after the rain, clinging together in a desperate knot for survival. Yet knowing the explanation didn’t make it easier to look at. It only made it worse—because it was real.