Barnacle Clumpersnatch

A short story about friendship and brotherhood.

I examined the box before me in a trance, with the breath caught in my lungs. No return address. No label. No branding. Just a brown paper box with ‘BARNACLE CLUMPERSNATCH’ scrawled shakily in its center. My mouth dried up in the low hum of tense silence.

Those words… that name… The package could’ve only come from Danny. But why? And more to the point, how? I felt the colour drain from my skin. 

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