Wednesday, 23 May 2012

Lost in the Forest

"Mother! mother! mother?" The child's voice echoed through the forest. The forest floor of needles were so soft and soothing. The towering pines stood silent and unmoved by the tormented child. The forest which could seem so beautiful and friendly is now ugly and proud. The boy angrily wiped his eyes. Suddenly he cried out in surprise; something had bitten his leg, it is ant. He pulls it's legs off one by one and then last of it's head. Even the ant is full of pride, he bit but would not even cry out in pain. The boy looked around for the ants nest but when after a minute could not find it he ran again. "Mother! mother!" the prideful hills mocked him "Mother... mother..." His hand caught a blackberry as he passed tearing his skin, without stopping he pulled out the thorns that had stuck. The pain and the sight of blood gave him new energy. In the distance the sky was starting to glow orange and red. For once this beautiful sight filled him with horror, the red seemed to run as though the sky were bleeding. The sun was dying and already there was a chill in the air. His foot caught a rock and suddenly everything slowed down, he watched a tree glide toward him, in vain he tried to cry out. The whole forest howled at and rose up toppling him over backwards. The ground turned to jelly and the trees danced  around and writhed like huge snakes towering up into the bleeding sky. The roaring wind deafened the boys ears and he fell forward on his knees as the forest reared up and the ground bucked like a wild horse trying to free herself. The forest gave another blood curdling howl and flock of crows swarmed down from the sky. The boy tried to fight off the darkness. The sky flashed red and black behind the dancing serpents. The child wildly swung at the sky trying to keep his balance and grabbed at a tree. The roaring wind and the thumping of his heart echoed through the forest. He twisted his head back and his eyes rolled up and closed.
* * * *
A fox scampered through the forest back toward her den and pups. Her mouth watered from the bird she'd just caught, the taste of warm blood choked her and she dropped the bird to lick her lips. Suddenly her fur bristled and she sat up alert. She had caught a disturbing scent in the night air. Picking up the bird she cautiously moved toward it. After a bit she saw a large creature laying on the ground, motionless. From the smell it was still alive, it lay in a distorted heap of limbs and shaggy twisted skin. After watching for some time she circled in closer to investigate the creature. Perhaps it was sick? It didn't smell of sickness -just the stench of fear, saliva and blood. The creature stirred and the fox jumped back in alarm, but it made no other movement so the she crept forward again. The creature was bleeding and fox sniffed the creatures head, and licked it, the creature was very salty. Suddenly the creatures eyes opened and then it screams: "Mumma!"

Tuesday, 15 May 2012

The Artist


You are trapped.

 * * * *

You're in space now.     You dream of earth.     You dream of lace.     You dream of cavalier.
Your mind is open and blinded by light. 
Men with masks clean out the cobwebs and your head is sewn up with a silver thread.
It is by your design.

The sound of death, of shattering, of brokenness... You're only stepping on burnt out matches.

Go down to the cities of men.        Common and soulless.        Death is in their eyes from birth.
From lack air they could die. No air. Lack of sleep drives them insane. Lack of food weakens them unto death. Fear controls their minds and their hearts also. Pain and fear guide them. They are blind.

See they cannot turn their eyes upward. A serpent slithers on its belly, a dog walks on four legs and man on two. Only the bird can escape the clutches of the ground. Only a bird can lift herself above the dirt.

By your body you are one of them.
In your heart you love and pity them.
In your mind you scorn them.

In anger the Sun burns itself up. The six planets hang in it's grasp. 
Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Jupiter and Saturn. 

In pain your mother bore you and in pain you will die. Some say one is reborn, destined to live life over and over. Others say one will live once and go on to the afterlife. Either way the cycle of life continues on earth. 
For me once is one enough.

Your hand reaches out for another.           But returns empty.           None are to be found. 
For you no compassion is found. In your fury you have emptied the skies.

Perhaps it is better to return to contemplation. 

Then this is a dream.            The world is a picture.              Life is a passing thought.

I wish you could have stayed. But you shall be here forever. This is where you came to dance. You will leave now but your mind will belong here in the stars forever. You can return whenever you so wish, for you are here already. Dreams come and go as one sleeps and wakes, but you have seen the earth from a great height. Above the clouds. Above the stars. 

You can wonder wherever you so wish for you can see. You can make your own way.
See with your mind. Feel with your heart. Walk with your soul.

* * * *

Yet you are free.



Sunday, 13 May 2012

Another Rainy Day

The rain had paused and everyone (except the Librarian, Sally, Jacqueline, Julius, the Moth and the Moose) joyfully ran outside screaming madly. I was skipping around thinking of clever quotes in case someone wanted to interview me or ask me about my life. The sky was mostly covered in clouds but there were some blue spots where the sun poked through. The ground squished under my shoes and water dripped off all the leaves and flowers. I whistled a tune for a bit and then made up some words to it, "Hom-body-bom. Bom-body-boo" 'I better write that down' I thought. Making sure no one was watching I pulled out my note book marked "Boring Stuff" (to make sure no one would read it) and wrote down the words. After squishing and skipping around and slipping over (once) in the garden I came upon a part where it seamed quiet and magical. I closed my eyes, 'Sally, pass the sugar please' said the Moose. When I opened my eyes I saw a sparrow pecking around in the earth, he then flew up toward a wall of the house covered in ivy and to my surprise flew straight through it! I stood in dazzled shock and dazed amazement and then I guessed what had happened. There was a hole behind and he'd just flown through it. Well the adventure spirit in me fired up and I ran over to the wall and felt behind the ivy and what do you know? there was a jolly old hole in the wall. Pulling back the ivy I saw it was quite big and so I climbed in. There was no floor and I fell down into the dark. On the way down I tried to thought about important things to me (like in the movies) but nothing came to mind. The BUMP! I hit the floor. I explored around in the dark, find a bunch of keys, found a door escaped etc. (Now skip to where I find the box) So I tried to open the box, dropped it, forced it, hit it with wood, rocks, feet, and then I remembered the bunch of keys. So I opened it and there was a bunch of gold. I stood up, there was something wrong, the room was tilting back in an odd way. Must be a dream. Now what...
There was a large crash and I opened my eyes. Back in the Library having afternoon tea with the others. 'Nice song' said Jacqueline. That reminded me and I took the notebook out of my pocket and flicked through it but I hadn't written the song down so I must be awake now (unless this is the dream?). 'Bother it, I can't remember the words to this song I made up.' I said, 'They weren't words' said Jacqueline. Sally put down her book and sipped her tea and made a face 'It's cold, what shall we do now? I'm bored'. The Moose looked up, 'I didn't know hot tea kept you that amused?' Jacqueline kicked him, 'that's my line'  'Well' I said, I have a list here in my book. 'The Boring Stuff one? asked Jacqueline. I nodded mysteriously and read it out to everyone. 

"A List of Cool Stuff to Do"
Dance in puddles with gumboots.
Dig holes in the earth like womboots.
Laugh and roll down hills like barrels.
Tweet and eat bird seeds like sparrels.
Fly like rockets into outer-space.
Draw on mirrors with toothpace.
Wear a mask like a bandit.
Steal some money and spand-it.
Throw water-bombs at people and hide.
Lock your friends and family outside.
Climb up slides the wrong way.
And skip school so you can play.

Saturday, 12 May 2012

Desultory


Alone on the side,
Of a hill so wide.

From a daisy white,
To the depth of night.

The petal it fell,
From heaven to hell.

Beneath an oak tree,
So wild and free.

Winters snow hath melt,
And springs warmth now felt.

A marked stone turned,
Toward the sun burned.

The story untold,
A secret so old.

(Now you're going back in time...)

Syntax

"Some people see paths like a single thread leading on, some as a spider web fanning outwards and some as a maze which is a cross between because although it has many paths leading in different directions there is only one that leads all the way through..." The Moose leant back in his armchair and puffed at his pipe. The librarian blushed and offered him some tea and a chocolate biscuit. Jacqueline raised an eyebrow and said in her condescending way 'You'll have to try harder then tea and biscuits if you want moose-face to notice you sweetie.' The librarian stood up quickly and dropped the teapot on the floor ('like where else?' Interrupted Sally.'the table?' I suggested) and blushed even more 'I was just offering him condiments!' she replied in defence. 'Oh you're in love with him' said Jacqueline -the Moose opened his eyes and sat up 'Love? Who said love?' 'I did, becuase-' said Jacqueline 'Well don't' said the Moose, 'It's a nasty, tinny sort of word' I nodded in my cool secret agent like way 'Awwwl-right now...' A large depressed moth who had flown in the window some hours ago had walked over to stand near the fire and was now sitting in a chair reading the newspaper. 'Who delivered the papers?' He asked 'Becuase it's got jam on it' he continued without waiting for anyone to answer. 'I know the answer to that' said Sally excitedly, 'Ohhhh well, the moments past' drawled Jacqueline. There was silence for the next half hour. Then the fireplace crackled really loud and the moth blew his nose. Then there was more silence for another five minutes (It really is a library and I know that even though it is a lovely place to talk and share poetry you've just written you probably shouldn't because there are signs that say "QUIET" so you should obey them.) and then the Moose stood up 'I've just written a poem I'd love to share, it's quite an interesting poem becuase you can rearrange the verses into any order you like to make another poem.' Sally jumped up and clapped her hands. (Now Jacqueline will say something negative I bet...) 'It sounds stupid, does it work? You're pathetic and no one likes you or your poems. Die moose, die.' said Jacqueline (told you so...) 'First no and then yes' said the Moose counting on his toes. 'Tell it us next time' said Jacqueline. The Moose pulled a syntax out of his pocket. Jacqueline's hair is dark red and short and I don't think she ever brushes it, but who knows?

Wednesday, 9 May 2012

Close Your Eyes...

The old room has that wonderful, exquisite warmth that only occurs when a warm autumn or spring sun has been shining in through a window all afternoon until the floorboards and the walls, every book, every pillow, every piece of furniture and every particle of dust that floats through the air is glowing with the warmth. The smell of oiled and polished wood chairs and tables, of old hard-cover books with faded yellowing pages, of knitted wool scarves and patchwork cushions and blankets, of an old leather armchair sitting in the corner and of pottery vases full of wilted flowers from the garden. The sooty smell of unburnt logs in the open fire place and the cool earthy smell of the old red bricks that it was built from. From over the years comes the smell of numerous dead mice in the walls. And from above comes the faint and almost unexplainable smell of the plaster in the ceiling and multitude of different scents that have drifted up and become trapped in the patterns of the cornices among the the many spiderwebs. The smell of detergent and soap from clothing and cleaning and even the strange smell of baby-sick add to the tapestry of smells. The unique scent of every person who had visited this room lingered along with the different perfumes and soaps they wore. An orange and black butteryfly fluttered in the window and crazily went from place to place in the room offering it's own touch to the festival of scents and smells. The sun moves and the shadows change and we can see the different people who have come and gone from this room now as shadows and ghosts. In the corner on the leather armchair sits an old man, his eyes are shut but his silent lips move -perhaps prayer has a scent of its own? A lady leans out the window gazing into the distance, a tear escapes her eye and falls down her white cheek. We can't see anyone through the window, perhaps she waits for her beloved to return from war? Big, strong, sweaty builders come and go working on different parts of the room. Kneeling down we see a boy fearfully hiding under the bed, from an angry parent or maybe an unknown  monster lurking in the corners of the room? He slides back into the dark out of sight. The table is set and the smell of hot tea and scones, blackberry jam and cream fills the room. We pause and listen as someone practices flute, the soft clear notes bounce around the room. On the bed sit two people reading poetry to one another -happiness is a field of different scents and they linger and float around the room like bubbles. Our faces reflect on the bubbles and we've just woven more colours of our own into the tapestry. We wonder at the magic of breathing and open our eyes...

Sunday, 29 April 2012

A Piece History

At first when the three unknown scientists started meeting to discuss together in 1945 it was the beginning of a totally new theory and not many people where interested in fact by 1952 only 18% of the population even knew about it and of that only 0.01% were in favour so it’s no surprise that it all had a somewhat shaky genesis. But by 1967 there was a lot more money, knowledge, ideas and support around so the was no problem after that and things went along very nicely. Then in 1973 a man came up with a rather controversial idea which was quickly dismissed so no one really knows anything about it but we can be assured it was of no importance because the current government had officially confirmed that no one should even bother about it, so they didn’t and to be honest at that time there were much more things to be excited and worried about because there were some (at the time) unnoticed effects causing certain problems (which can explain for the UFO sitings, dreadful clothing styles and food which occurred during the 70’s and early 80’s). But then a campaign was initiated to give the scientists more freedom and the political side of things was promptly shaken off and a fresher approach was taken which helped to shed a lot more light and in most cases there were even theories that were quite ahead of their time and more and more scientists were getting involved. By the start of the twenty first century the sheer enormousness and including the cultural dimensions -which simply couldn’t have been imagined by the original three scientists- are now forming a distinct and irreplaceable part of the modern world in which we live.

Wednesday, 25 April 2012

The Card Game

'I know the ins and outs boy; I was a child over the wall -a child in the line of fire -a child in men's shoes. See this hand? It's pushed and lifted more weight then this here ten story building'. I looked at the mans hands, I believed him. He sipped his coffee and continued. 'All the trucks and vans used to be green and the women wore blue blouses and white aprons -do you know why lad?' I shook my head. 'Well dresses where on the way out, women's freedom and all that.' I squinted my eyes, 'out where?' I asked. 'What lad?' Where where the dresses going?' He rubbed his hands and shrugged 'Russia perhaps, it's damn cold there.' I pulled out my gun and pulled back the lock 'They wear fur hats in Russia, and I just love the long coats' the man frowned 'enough of that son' I shot the light bulb hanging from the ceiling and jumped up running over to the bared window 'I noticed there's a screw loose -pull these bars back quickly' and in a minute and a half we were standing beside some large bins in an alley full of rotting garbage. We ran down toward the end and merged into the stream of people walking past. One minute I was ready to die, the next I was running for my life with a man I didn't trust but there was more at stake then on or two lives. A card game is not worth playing if the deck is rigged and there was a wild card in this game for the reek of it was becoming stronger the longer I played. As each card was played I knew sooner or later it would spring out and no matter what my hand was t would be left unplayed. 'We must get to the post office before the train leaves' panted the man, I nodded in reply and we pushed past the people in haste. At a busy corner I felt a tug on my coat and looking down saw a young girl in a tattered red coat 'please sir' she said timidly 'can I have some coins -my mother lost me' I paused and missed a gap in the traffic 'oh alright then' I took out my wallet and then everything went into slow motion. There was a loud sharp bang and I felt a searing pain in my shoulder. The man (whose name I never knew) had ran off and people had been screaming and yelling and some had come over and helped me to a bench on the foot path. I shook the dizziness away for I could not afford that now, someone had opened my coat to look at the wound and now there was blood everywhere. The girl in the red coat stood in front of me and asked for the coins with her eyes, I handed them to her and asked a women to take care of the child. Someone helped me tie my scarf around the wound on my shoulder and then with a deep breath a jumped up and ran for the train before my the next card was played.

Tuesday, 17 April 2012

The Black Hole Hole

The Moose and I had followed the ridge of the mountain for a long time, upwards and inwards. The air had become thin and I knew we were very, very, very, very, very, very high. At about midday we broke free of the forest and came out into a stony wilderness of stones and wildness. White puffy clouds floated far below us and below them the forest spread and below the forest the lost city that nobody knows about. I squeezed my eyes shut and swallowed a thought which threatened to ruin everything. 'I say'  I said 'Isn't it enthralling, being so far above the world and all that.' 'Indeed it is.' agreed the Moose, he opened his mouth and then shut it again. For the next seven years we stood on the mountain side saying nothing. Finally I sat down on a large flat rock, on the rock beside me was a shiny, thin, flat rock. So I picked it up, turned it over and on the other side were some words which read as follows: "Now what?" I flung it down smashing it on the ground. I bit my lip trying not to scream something silly which I didn't, then I noticed the Moose kneeling down some distance away so I ran over to him. A large rock nearby slowly started to slide down the mountain making a horrible grinding sound that turned my stomach. I clamped my hands on my ears and stumbled over beside the Moose to see what he was looking at. There on the ground was a large hole with nothing in it. Now this may come as a shock to you, there was nothing in the hole at all, nothing, nothing, nothing. Perhaps its a very deep hole you say? No I don't think you're quite getting it. If you can imagine a very small black hole star, or a space that's so empty it has nothing in it what so ever then you're imagining something that is nothing which is rather interesting I think. I sat down beside the Moose who was throwing stones into the hole and watching them disappear like magic, 'hows the black hole hole going?' I asked in one of my friendly voices 'Pretty good, about three elephants and a flock of birds have flown out of it' he informed me. I gasped 'I didn't know elephants could fly?' 'well these ones could' said the Moose. Three months later after watching a cow come out of the hole, I said to the Moose -who had nearly emptied the entire mountain into the black hole hole- 'hey Moose?' and he replied 'yes?' and then I said this ' lets jump into the black hole hole and see where it sends us, because I heard you can time travel in them' the Moose shook his head 'no, lets not' so we didn't. The next year the Moose backed down and said humbly that we probably just might jump into the black hole hole, so after throwing in the last piece of the mountain we jumped into the black hole hole and every thing went black for a second.

Saturday, 14 April 2012

Life Colander

Stone can be a very dreadful substance; it's very cold and unforgiving -and when I say unforgiving I mean unforgiving- and there's no denying it. The man on my left is a neo-nazi and he's locked in a cage moaning and groaning and moaning. The man on my other left is a rocket scientist and he shot a feral dog on Saturday. The man on my right is fat and he has a bag of apples for his children and wife who life in a yellow house with their dog -Maxwell- and cat -ninety nine- and an adopted Indian child who can speak English but is the best table tennis player in the world. The room was full of a warm yellow glow from all the golden lamps standing hither and thither around the rooms shining on apples, whipped cream and rosy red wine on little silver trays on tables. We left with a group of friends and ran out into the street laughing and singing, the night was warm and the full moon was shining like the sun. The streets where lined with maples. Lucy called out and ran down through the entrance to the subway, everyone followed her. A spirited game of hide and seek ensued and after an hour the group of people gathered together on one of the platform. They got up some going back to the party, others to their homes. There were no other people down in the subway that night -Lucy was never found either. The neighbourhood was a breeding ground for criminals and most children were serious trouble makers before adolescence. The authorities mostly turned a blind eye -as is the usual practice- and the neighbourhood mostly broke itself down. Lucy's older brother was a in hospital after being attacked by a group of teenagers, they would have killed him if he hadn't been rescued by a security guard who heard the commotion. They were brutal and two of the teenagers had been shot. Lucy's great grandfather was a captain in the first world war, he had been to France during the battle of Mulhouse (9th, August, 1914) and had been shot in the leg passed out in a field where a farmers daughter had found him, taken him back to her house, looked after him, fallen in love and then married him, (this is known as the "The Florence Nightingale effect" or "Transference" as Sigmund Freud called it). Now getting back to stones and rock. The physical structure of rock is very hard and often is used to signify the absence of life and emotion. But if I may interject her with a short note on "Objectophilia" (not the sexual fetish but in fact the emotional attraction that is) Monica loves a park bench in the park. Anyway I was walking past the post office and all the words were seeping down through the cracks in the bricks. Millions of words, emotions, thoughts, ideas and mindless chatter. There was a list with all these people and I fell down into the words because I couldn't save them but I really wanted to. Elissia told me not to worry because there's no point in crying about spilt milk. Live and Let Die was playing quietly in the background "When you were young and your heart was an open book..." I leant back against the huge rock and watched the city lights come on below in the the valley, there really was a lot of words and strange words and emotions to sift through down in the city. I rather like the hillside.

Tuesday, 10 April 2012

Chapter Nine

Sally had wondered around being sulky for quite some time talking to herself mumbling and grumbling about how strangely rude The Girl with the Big Blue Hair was. She thought of the things she would like to do to her, teach her some manners and make her say sorry. After awhile she became bored of this and the feelings of loneliness and lostness took over and she hurried around this corner and ran around that one and up this hallway and down those stairs and getting more and more lost and lonely all the while. Sally came to a very long white corridor full of chairs of all sorts and in some parts there were so many she to climb over them, at the end she could see an arched doorway which came to a point much like church doors. The chairs seamed to go on for ever and ever first walking between them then climbing over them, catching her dress and falling and bruising her hands more then once. She was starting to get very tired when finally until she climbed over the last pile of chairs and walked toward to door wiping her bruised hands on her now rather tattered dress. “If the door doesn’t open” Sally threatened “I shall kill myself, for I am NOT climbing back over those chairs” she waited for a while just in case the door was listening for she was she couldn’t take it if were to be locked, after catching her breath she walked solemnly up to the doors which were much larger not so friendly looking now she was standing in front of them. Slowly she reached to the door knob knowing there must be something grand behind such grand doors, taking a breath she grasped the knob turning it slowly around then it caught and would turn no more. Sally’s heart sank and she stood holding the door knob a few moments before sliding to the ground and bursting into tears for it was the most disappointing thing that could have happened. She had cried a bit she remembered she was going to kill herself and after thinking about this she thought she would try opening the door again for she didn’t feel like doing this. “I’m a bright girl and when I put my mind to something it gets done” she encouraged herself standing up “now dry your tears Sally and open that door” in time she noticed a large red key hanging on the wall “ah ha! If that’s not the key for the door I shall eat my hat” (which was a much safer bet since she wasn’t wearing a hat) but the key was much too high for her to reach so she tried jumping then running and jumping and then jumping and screaming none of which proved helpful so she just screamed as loud as she could and sat down with a bump which rather hurt. She had been sitting for some minutes when it occurred to Sally to peek through the keyhole and see what was behind the big red doors, so she got up and put her face to the door and peered through. At first she couldn’t make out what she was seeing then it came to her as quite shock; there was a colourfully painted face staring back at her. Sally gasped and jumped back from the door and stood against the wall with her heart pounding. “It may have been there the whole time watching me -whatever it is” she shivered, then a thought came to her that maybe the face didn’t belong to a person or creature at all but was a painting or statue “for there does seam to be a great many paintings and statues around this place” she reasoned. But even this thought didn’t give her the courage to peek through the keyhole again so she sat down on the floor again and wondered if anything could get worse for her. Sally looked at the big red doors another thought struck her that she might call out to whatever it was on the other side of the door because maybe it was friendly or maybe just a painting. So she called out “hello” and because she couldn’t think of anything else to say “hello?” but there was no answer. “Maybe it doesn’t know what to say back to hello” Sally wondered so instead she said “what’s your name? I’m Sally” and then a little louder in case the thing didn’t hear “I’m Sally, who are you?” and then a voice croaky voice answered “Hello Sally” This was quite a relief because it was a rather friendly sounding voice, so feeling much more happy now Sally called out to it again “who are you?” “I’m A Clown Juggling Oranges” came the reply “oh” said Sally and couldn’t think of anything to say for awhile. Presently she thought that a clown juggling oranges might be able to open the door so she asked but he couldn’t and asked why she couldn’t and Sally told him. “How curious” said a clown juggling oranges “you really aren’t very clever are you?” “yes I am” retorted Sally “But I can’t reach the key because I’m too short not because I’m not clever” a clown juggling oranges laughed at this which made Sally stamp her foot “stop laughing, you can’t open the door either” “I can help you open the door” laughed a clown juggling oranges “how please?” asked Sally “why have you been sitting on the floor” asked a clown juggling oranges “how is that helping? Just tell me how to open the door” pleaded Sally “think about it” came the reply through the keyhole. Sally thought for a minute “because I was tired, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately” the voice sighed at this and then said “you can’t see the tree’s for the forest can you? Take a chair and place it away from the others” so Sally did this “now what do you see?” said a clown juggling oranges “I see a chair”  said Sally sulkily. “Think” came the croaky voice through the keyhole “can’t” said Sally. There was a long silence after this and Sally sat down on the chair and then jumped up again “I could have sat on this chair” she exclaimed “right you are” agreed a clown juggling oranges “and what else can you use the chair for?” prodded a clown juggling oranges “I don’t know” said Sally “reach golden keys?” the croaky voice suggested “oh yes” exclaimed Sally and dragged the chair over to the wall climbed up and grabbed the key.

Monday, 2 April 2012

A Walk in the Night

I awoke in the middle of the night and lay awake in the dark for some time. A beautiful sweet smelling scent hung in the air. I'm not sure how long before I noticed my window open, the curtains were dancing in the chilly night breeze. I watched as the moon rose from behind a cloud and sent glowing beams of light down through my window, I saw something shining on the floor. Getting out of bed I found the shining object was a small bottle, I put it in my pocket, pulled on my night robe and crept out into the hall. It was always dark -even in the daytime- soon I was walking down the pathway to the front gate and out onto the street. I stood under the street lamp and gazed down the empty street. Pulling my coat around me I followed the street to the end -there were fifteen street lamps. On the corner a man was kneeling screaming prayers and clutching a rosary, I passed with my head bowed and continued along without looking back. As I walked past the houses I glanced at the black windows which stared back menacingly from behind the hedges and walls. I heard a cough and down the street I saw a shadowy figure, it was standing under a lamp post on the opposing side of the street. After a pause I continued along hoping to walk past but the person started to cross as I drew near. As they came closer I could see they were an old woman in a shawl, she stopped in front of me and mouthed something I couldn't catch. So I walked over to her in the middle of the street, she leant forward their deep dark eyes sent chills down my spine. "Such a dear" she coughed "But oh! The horror, the horror!" my heart started beating as she continued in a quivering voice "They have a two story house you know." I stepped back "who does?" I asked, the old woman pointed over my shoulder to a two story house behind a large wall. A light flickered on and off in an upstairs room, I turned back to the old woman but they were already walked away and after a moment had all but disappeared into the shadows. I tugged my coat tight around me as the chilly wind stirred up the night air and turned back to the house, it was a lovely brick two story home in a beautiful street and I have never seen anything so terrifying. I stood in the middle of the street staring back at the house trying to console myself. On the roof was a weathercock, it was the traditional shape of a cockerel, suddenly spun around and a gust swept through the treetops, I shivered as I heard the moans of the praying man from down the end of the street. Just as I was about to walk away I noticed some writing on the wall in chalk, I can't remember what it said -perhaps my mind instantly blocked it out. After a while I had come to the park in the middle of town, in the lamp light I noticed   black stains on the sleeves of my coat and turning my hands over they covered in blood, I was wheezing and could feel bruises all over my body. I limped forward toward a bench and fell onto it everything went back. Sometime later I awoke, it was still dark but the moon had already set. My hand had stuck to my face, I pulled it away and painfully stood up remembering I had fallen asleep in the park. Shaking my head I hurried back to my house. I made myself a hot chocolate and went into my room and sat down on my bed. I felt a lump in my pocked which turned out to be what looked like a small glass perfume bottle. I stared at it for a few moments wondering how it had got there and then I opened it. An intoxicating scent burst out smothering me like a thousand flowers, I dropped the bottle and staggered over to the window and flung it open. The perfume made my head spin and I stumbled backwards and landed on my bed as everything went black.