An Inspire Me Feature : Ghosts

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.

***

Monday

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.

Tuesday

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

Wednesday

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

“come”

Thursday

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.

Friday

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”

Surprises and Roses

She returned home late after a weekend of drinks, dance and eating. Her soul was filled and so was her mind, she tosses her bags in the corner of her room, slips into her night things…going to bed was still a far away thought really.

The salty oily smell of Mcdonald’s french fries wafted passed her nostrils and stirred the monster in her tummy. “Yum” she thought happily to herself as she whips out a comic book to enjoy.

Her phone pings, she wonders who would be texting so late at night and it turned out to be a reminder for a dinner meet up with a friend. This should be fun.

Next day rolled by and she received more texts from the friend confirming dinner and that she’ll be picked up from home.

“It feels like a date” she thought wistfully to herself. A small smile form as she while away her day with that fantasy. The evening light dims the house and she starts preparing. Sweet smells permeate the air as she emerges from the bathroom, her clothes were strewn all over her bed as she tries to go for “sensual but not too desperate”. Final touches on her make up to brighten her eyes and a quick slip of her heels — the door bell rings.

She grins as her heart hammered hard against her chest, she opens the door to see a huge bouquet of red roses.

“Surprise” Behind the bouquet stood a man she never met. Wide eyed and confused she carefully spoke “You might have the wrong house, but I bet she would be extremely happy to see you.”

His arm shot out to stop the door from closing “No, I got the right house. I got the right person, you just haven’t met me yet.”

She stares as he continues.

“Come” he extends his hand “Come to me and meet me”

Slowly, her hand moves to his and powerful fingers immediately envelope hers as he pull her into a full embrace.

They disappeared into the night with trails of roses scattered on her door step.

A Song Request

She squeezed a slice of lime into her bottle of Savannah. The juices slick against her digits, she wipes them off.

Tiredness plagues her after many nights of late nights, but it was a good tired. Yes, a good tired tinge with a teaspoon of sadness.

Good things did come together as she wished though, she prayed and hoped that her friend would still remain her friend and it happened. They met up and listened to good music that night, to the honeyed voice of the vocalist and his incredible fingers serenading beautiful melodies from six strings. It was a good night.

But late, is late even if she wants to stay, its time to go. Like Cinderella and the spell for midnight, she prepares to leave, and her friend suddenly said “How about one more song?”

One more song then, the spell could break for all she care. Bravery suddenly infused her being as she stood up and walk towards the stage. She smiles at the talented vocalist and requested for a song.

He was kind and before singing he mentions “This, actually, is one of my favourite songs…”

The rest of the words didn’t matter, because music took command. Gently and reverently, his voice wrapped around her soul, the combined air of the guitar, bass, piano and drums whirled around the room. She was entranced to the very last note.

She felt important, she felt cared for, she felt the longing for the song. It was enough, and she was glad that she did what she needed, and made a song request.

Dark

Dark. Its dark, everywhere
She wiggles her fingers in front of her
Her wiggled fingers remain unseen
Its dark, very dark.

Yet, she closes her eyes
to concentrate better
to understand her surroundings
to feel.

Her hands hugging in her knees
she breaths in deep
dank, pine, woody – a brown smell
she exhales

Quietly, she breaths, shhhh, quietly
She listens
silence pierces the air, like a flash of lightning
painful, like a long silver needle breaking skin

Ow, she thought as she rubbed her ears
Her arm shifts and rubs against thick, bristly surfaces
She pauses
And freezes

The rough, bristly surface moved
up and down
in and out
hot air blew against her ankle

Wet leather swiped up against her cheek
A trail of wetness remained on her skin
Then a cold nudge onto her elbow
A bark

Its dark, very dark
But her friend is right next to her
Nudging, shoving and guiding
She finally made her way out

Random Story #5

It was a ridiculous thought that passes through little Miss Barnaby’s mind that cool afternoon.

A ridiculous thought indeed.

Who would have thought that becoming a serial murderer to be a life ambition?

No one stopped her, for no one knew about it. That was enough for her to start her learning.

She sought out suspicious people from nasty places; pick pockets, liars, cheats and the occassional stabber in the neighbourhood. But to no avail, did she find one who would make her into a serial murderer.

What does one entail to fulfil this position she wonders. What does one need to equip with to go on, and also she wondered how does one progresses to become one?

Is it enough to wield a weapon? Would it make her a better serial murderer if she specialises in one murder weapon or would it be better to be flexible in that aspect?

She asked around, she poked in and popped out. Until one day, she chanced along an old dingy pub, just behind Crow Street. A rather lonely alley led her to a pasty green door. Pretty unwelcoming entrance really, but her heart began to throb as the prospects of finally meeting a professional to kick start her ambitious career.

She knocked on the door, ‘tap tap’. ‘Hello there, is anybody home?’ The door creaked open, and before she knew it, she felt something solid slide through her person. Fast and sure, and red hot patterns began to swirl at the front of her bossom. She coughed once, gurgled and finally slumped onto the step.

Her eyes glazed over as a voice muttered, “Number 26”.

Random story #4

Everyday is a new discovery. For new things, old things, for a sense of belonging.

She lies back on her bean bag, her hands running up her short hair and closes her eyes as Eva Cassidy serenades her soul.

She thought she didn’t feel a thing, but a little twinge still remains. And she smiles, because it reminds her again and again, what a lovable person she is.

Music has always been her comfort, her pick-me-up, and her constant reassurance. For a while she sought other means of relaxation; buying more books, meeting more people and learning different things. But the pull of what she is, of what her body responds to naturally, rings true.

A name jumped out  as she was reading a story and she searched it on Youtube to have a listen. Like an addict finding a pot of his fix, she’s completely drowned.

Carpe Diem

They were all gathered for a dance rehearsal, preparing for a performance the following week. They were mostly ready, and are now putting everything in place.

Out of the corner of her eye, he was within her visual. His antics, the funny faces he pulled   while he dances (which he claims have to do with the nature of the dance) and how he was never far away from her, made her attend each and every practise.

Sometimes they would accidentally brush against each other, when they sat beside each other, their knees would touch. She wonders, is this just a coincidence or does he like the way their bodies meet?

She gathered her courage, after all, this is the last practise before they go and perform. Her friend’s voice rang in her head :

You sure you want to tell him? what if he’s not interested?”

She sucks in a deep breath and blows it out slowly, she feels her chest go up and then down. She felt warm and her feet started moving towards him.

Carpe Diem” she thought silently.

His face lits up as he gave her a dazzling smile, her palms were sweaty and she spoke:

“I like you. More than anything in this world…I like you.”

He stares at her, she stares at him. Silence stretched and her heart sank. She smiled brightly and said :

“Just thought I let you know” and off she went.

Another Random Day Dream

What better way to kill time at work by day dreaming about daydreams.

You were speaking earnestly to our customer, pouring and sharing every bit of passion you have in you. I was mesmerised by your intensity.

Then I noticed your face contorting in discomfort and you place your thumb at the base of your throat as you continued speaking. Oh what dedication you have!

I couldn’t help myself and got you a hot cup of water to ease your ticklish throat. You smiled appreciatively, oh how my heart warms! Then you stood up, cup in hand, I took it and asked if you had enough, you smiled shyly and asked for more hot water. Gladly I took the cup and made you another.

That was a happy moment for me then. We didn’t need to talk much but I find that I like doing things for you, I hope to do it again.

Good morning

Morning, the overcast skies and cold winds did not do much for his mood. Still, he zipped up his jumper and head off for his morning run.

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She lay in bed looking out the window, her body trapped in the workings of thick cotton. She snuggled in deeper towards the warmth, closed her eyes and returned to dreamland.

——————————————————————————————————————–

An hour and a half later, he trudged up his porch hot and sweaty. He lifts his hand to wipe off the remnants from the run, and promptly flops down onto hard wood. Arms outstretched, he waits.

——————————————————————————————————————–

A sound woke her, she rubbed her dry crusted eye lashes and groggily face her image in the bathroom.
She emerged later fresh and refreshed, breakfast needs to be prepared.

——————————————————————————————————————–

The savoury smell of bacon and eggs wafted passed his nostrils making his mouth water, he lifts himself with a grunt and walks towards the delectable smell of breakfast.

——————————————————————————————————————–

She hears the falling of footsteps, the scrape of the kitchen door and then felt the twinning of two strong arms around her waist. A kiss and a smile, breakfast is on the table.

Do you want to live forever?

Continuation from Maybe a Dream

Her stomach turned at the sight of the red hand like mark upon her shoulder. She couldn’t help but remember that was where “he” touched her. Right before she started screaming bloody murder in her house.

Her breath started to quicken and soon she was gasping, clutching the front of her shirt with frantic tears streaming down her face as she revived the fear she felt then.

That’s me, I thought. But, if I’m there, where am I?

It was strange how it took me a while to realise that I was separated from my body and that I have been staring at myself spiral downwards all the while. Now, I start to panic. Suddenly as if sensing my new found knowledge, the walls around me in my room start to change, as if fading from one dream to another as it shed its warmth to the cold, grey concrete.

Just as unexpected, I felt like I was transported in a blink of an eye, I’m back. I’m in the cabin.

Silence ensued in the wooden shelter, there was no breath of life as my eyes continue searching for the one thing that struck fear into my heart. Then, as if hearing my thought, he appeared. Large, wrapped in animal skins, his face this time covered but his eyes, they pierced straight to me.

“Why are you here again? Haven’t you returned to your world?”

His voice was raspy, like he has not used his vocal chords for a while.

I tried to speak and just as I was about to begin my tirade, I felt a ball in my throat that clutched onto my voice box. I couldn’t speak, not a whisper, not a sound.

His eyes continued their piercing assault on my person as I frantically clutch my throat, trying to speak.

He was silent and then he asked “Do you want,…to live forever?”

I looked up in disbelief, shock registered on my face.

Then as unexpected and sudden…

Everything went black.