Lovetruckerthe Penumbra of Self
December 2nd 2008 07:19
My pillow was a boulder and the bed a rod of iron in the long tedium of the night, while my thoughts were instruments of torture paraded before me. The creaking of the kitchen door was almost a relief, except for the sinking feeling in my heart and the chattering of my teeth.
The shadow that crept across the wall was unmistakable, the penumbra of my remembered self in the opprobrium of the old inn, so many lives ago. I could almost smell the salt tang of the air as clawed feet scraped across the wooden floor, bringing my nemesis towards me. The room emptied of beauty, as though life was sucked out of it, leaving only the vacuum of thoughtlessness.
Confronted again by the resurrected creature of desire and dread, I could only abandon the truth like a sick dog in the forest. I listened to no one and no one listened to me.
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Comment by Lilla
From The Home Front
Enviro Warrior
Dream Herald
Esoteric Bookshop
Once again I am in awe of the way you manage to capture the very essence of each moment that resides within the fear, and to be able to draw it too; such a rare gift and inspiration to those of us also travelling this highway from time to time.
Lilla ...
Comment by Lovetrucker
Lovetrucker
LT