Sunny Vuong reads an excerpt from "Silent Blooms: A Cottagecore Horror Pick Your Own Adventure", forthcoming in Wrongdoing's first issue

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When the sun sets and paints the sky into a dulcet pink, the hue is a bit off. Just by a fraction, you think, so miniscule that you might be making too much of it. But the sky looks like it’s melting into an unnatural wax, and the cicadas—they’re loud. They’re *always* loud anywhere, but at night, you think maybe you’re just imagining it when their song sounds just a pitch higher than it should.

The locals don’t say anything when you ask. They smile good naturedly, and ask if the deer are giving you any trouble. The deer do get a bit territorial this time of year, yes. Tourists have problems with them. You decide it’s better not to mention that you’ve never seen them eating grass.