For a short while I see the old house as it was. Freshly painted walls, swing seat on the veranda, the old tyre hanging from the oak tree. But it’s soon swallowed by time, the mist rolling back. It’s older now, a sold sign swings from the porch. I stand in the passage, dust motes dancing at the bottom of the stairs. I remember you standing there with a hole in your t-shirt. I stick my finger in it and tickle your tummy. I can’t help but cry, this house soon becoming just a hole where we once lived.
The sounds carried through the air; a chorus of tiny voices high pitched and fervent. She searched around her, the shattered silence disorientating her. She had been walking with only her own angst ridden breaths as comfort for too long, yet the sounds that now surrounded her were unwelcome. The anonymity of each voice distressed her; the tone of angelic innocence scratching at a memory she had long suppressed. She closed her eyes, scrunching them tight and bringing her fists to her ears. But her vain attempts were too late. They were here and they weren’t going to let go.
She had fought hard against the waves, but to no avail. Her body floated atop the sea; bone weary, battered and bruised. Her night dress clung to her beaten form, the cotton transparent as the sea swallowed its fibres. Her heart ached in the solitude of her surroundings as the water drowned out her cries. Her tears dissolving in their watery grave, lost forever, sinking with her heart. Her body was now a lifeless form, weightless and forgotten. She called for her, whispered her name over and over, closer than she had ever been, an eternity still between.
She sat at the piano, her heart weighing heavy in her chest. Its dark wood was unkempt; littered with tea stains, rubbed bare where hands had come to rest. The ivory keys were stained and chipped, the black keys dull and begging to be brought back to life. She could hear the piano calling out her name, louder and louder, a crescendo filling the room. She flexed her fingers, resting them upon the keys that had once been so familiar. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her back and began to play, imagining her mother beside her once more.
Dreams escaping through windows in the light of day, though we chase their tails into the sky. They evade our touch as they dissipate amongst the clouds out of reach. If we are lucky perhaps the rains will fall, weighting those dreams back down to earth for us to hold in our hands. But if the rain fails and the clouds perish, leaving only a blue empyrean above, those dreams will still reunite. We will find them between the stars the next night as we wander in the spaces hidden in the farthest corners of our mind.
You were in my dream last night. I awoke with a smile on my face, so there was no doubt it was you.
I can’t recall the last time I saw you, face to face. I’ve tried and I’ve tried but it’s beyond my reach. So it must have been a long time ago. I can’t even remember the last time I thought of you, the last time I remembered a memory of you. I had almost forgotten you and what you meant to me. But as morning turns to day turns to night, I desperately grasp at that dream.
The thudding noise of Clarice’s dreams had entered the real world. It was no longer a sign that he was coming, but a sign that he was already here. His dark shadow now loomed in the corner of the room, growing with each snatched glance she dare take it eclipsed the real world. His shape became indefinable as it swallowed her safe place, forever tainting it with his suffocating presence. Clarice remained frozen as he loomed over her, feeling a chill like an icy burn as he weighted her down. He was here and he wasn’t leaving without her.