Eidolon - Chapter 1A house in mourning is a lonely one. A black flag is flown above the chimney pot: do not enter, death was here. He took away all that was dear, all that held meaning. His own hands pushed her down that flight of stairs and broke that tender neck. He still lurks in the corridors, seeping his black aura into everything. Death is cruel, death is anguish._______________________________________________________________________It had been nineteen days since the bed had been slept in. Christopher couldn't bring himself to touch it, let alone sleep in it. The covers were still thrown off and crumpled. She had been late for work; she had jumped out of bed, leaving the soft purple duvet half hanging off the side. She had pulled some clothes on, probably splashed cold water on her face in the adjoining bathroom. She would have run out of the room and down the corridor and then
Christopher stopped himself there, closed his eyes and clenched his teeth. To think of Olivia's final steps and t
VisitorYou can appear in the unlikeliest of places. It should be a familiar sight to me now, but I am always taken off guard. I often think I see you in the shadow at the back of a room, slipping out of view. I tell myself not to look. There is nothing but dust and darkness where I think you have been. If only it were just there that I saw you then I could ignore it.I used to see you as I drew the curtain in the shower. Only a glimpse, but enough to make me wrench it back in hope and fear that you really were there. But no, nothing, still alone. I nearly always pretend I dont see you there anymore, but it calls for short, sharp showers when I cannot help but believe that you are behind the curtain. I dont always do it though. Sometimes when I hear the floorboards creek outside the bedroom door, I creep out of bed and call to you. I am on the landing saying your name, expecting something; expecting nothing.In all honesty, it scares me. Is this normal? Sometimes, I lose all sanity
Homo sapiens idaltuLike leaves falling from treesWe too crumble, eventually.When our backs are brittleand our faces wrinkled as barkone final sighthrough the willow's trailing tearsand we are gone.We are so fragile,so meek,in the end.
frenzyInstant moonbeamserupt in coloured skies.Raindrops revertsweat drops drip, crawling.Slow, slow downtightenreleasespasm.