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My home is my refuge, but in the late hours it is transformed, and becomes a chamber of woven shadows. I have never been on good terms with the night. To me it is a huge, dank, hidey-hole harboring all that slithers, creeps and crawls. Furniture ordinary in the comforting light of day twists into sinister shapes when darkness falls. The witching hour is aptly named for the still silent hours between midnight and dawn. Alone in my room, the inky darkness smothers, the air presses down, a blanket that muffles the everyday noises of the ancient house. Huddled in the corner of my sofa, I pause, listen and strain to hear the creaking house settling or the gentle hum of the refrigerator.A lone car announces its presence, huffing and puffing up the steep incline of the street. Trees shiver as the icy wind howls through bare branches. An old oak's limbs like skeletal fingers scrape and claw the shingled roof. The night is alive, a living breathing thing pressing against the frozen window pane. Silvery moonlight seeps through cracks in the tightly drawn curtains, giving form to shadow, turning simple objects into leering monsters.My long forgotten childhood fears are remembered once more, the man under the bed is once again a threat. With eyes scrunched shut I curl my toes safely under the heavy blanket, half expecting cold and clammy claws to reach up and snatch them. At this time it seems anything could happen. The quiet shuffling in the hall is a goblin looking for his dinner, and not the family dog. I lie awake wide-eyed, afraid to move, waiting out the dark. I know there is nothing really there, that in the cold light of day I will laugh at myself. But in the silent hours I am isolated, and dawn is far away. The darkness feeds my fears and the line between fantasy and reality blurs.
Things you can only learn from movies and television... If I see one more little winky... |
right now
Feeling:
Currently Reading: The Devil Wears Prada Listening To: black t-shirt, black pants To Do List: re-organize my sewing table, make two fairy dolls, do the dishes book of shadows
touch me
thanks
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