Italo Calvino said: The more enlightened our houses are, the more their walls ooze ghosts. Describe the ghosts that live in this house: Image credit: “love Don’t live here anymore…” – © 2009 Robb North – made available under Attribution 2.0 Generic
I couldn’t tell if its night or day,
Light, does not reflect on my eyes…anymore.
She usually sits by the left window sill. Then takes a sip from her teacup, and immediately her eyes would zoom straight into mine. I would be sucked into her and then I would be beside her, with my hand in hers.
Crazy hair that stands in all direction would softly graze my face as she cuddles up to me. She wears only a large t-shirt, moving closer to me.
Everything about her is cold. Her lips look cold, her hands are cold, her feet are blue and her nipples would show. She’s very cold and she wants my warmth.
His sound of laughter would echo from the back door, beckoning you to explore the source. A ball would bounce across the house and then rebound to back to the other side.
He wears a blue shirt and black shorts with strangely muddy socks and shoes. His dark hair straight and long, tied behind in a pony tail.
He smiles, and pulls you to the nearest bog.
“Come, lets play” he says
“It will be fun” he says
“you won’t ever want to go home” he says
Golden curls reflecting the sunlight would blind my sight when she appears around noon. Her flowing pink dress with its frills and thrills. Her beautiful pink smile, and beautiful pink teeth.
She’s soft, graceful and genial. The white mare that accompanies her is never too far from her, grazing contently.
A pink puppy would bound about, through her, above her.
She smiles and starts to undress, showing her pink porcelain body all cracked and smashed with its gaps and holes.
“come” she whispers
The storm hits and you run into the house, disregarding the past 3 days. Then suddenly, a creak of wood startles you.
Lightning strikes and a silhouette of a person seated on a rocking chair would appear.
Your heart hammers frantically against your rib cage as you debated between braving the storm and staying to find out.
“what…are..you doing…in my…HOUSE!”
Thunder roared and lightning strikes fiercely again.
You didn’t stay to find out this time.
You stared at the house again and notice that everything looks different.
Yesterday seemed to be a turning point and you wondered about that. Had everything always seem that way?
You recalled a scene on television, it was a scene during the war where everything was fuzzy, unclear and black and white.
That’s how the scene look like now, everything was fuzzy, unclear and black and white.
“I couldn’t tell if its night or day, light does not reflect in my eyes…anymore”