Stacy looked out back and started. Marv crouched there in underpants, chisel in hand, carefully working the huge chunk of wood, making… something?
“Marv? Marv, what are you carving?” Stacy called from the now open rear door. “Come in Marv, you’ll catch cold.”
Marv kept working, ignoring the cold as he ignored his wife. He had no answer. The voices hadn’t said what it was.
“Get in here before the neighbors see!”
“Finish!” the voices screamed. “Finish!”
Marv worked frantically, obeying the voices. Stacy’s cries blew away like wind, drowned by the voices. Only the voices mattered.
“Finish, finish, finish.”