Scenes From An Old House Facing West

In the corner a grand old fireplace sits, and on top talking to it’s old friend
gurgles a burnt black kettle full of dents and a broken handle.

A large pot of hydrangeas on the table stands, and a trail of ants lead to and from a forgotten plate of toast and jam.

A grey and white tabby lays motionless on the couch, and down by the skirting board a mouse is on the lookout for bits of food laying about.

On the wall is a painting of a trees in a field by John Constable, and on the coffee table lays an old leather bound King James Bible.

The old house faces west for reasons unknown. It catches not much sun at all, but tis warm inside which makes it a home.

Up on the ceiling a spiders cobweb catches a ladybird for dinner, and down by a grand four poster bed kneels a tearful sinner.

Behind the door a coat rack stands, full of fur coats, scarves and a selection of hats.

In the roof and in the walls the copper piping taps and rattles, and in the kitchen a jar of tomato sauce falls off the shelf and splatters on the floor.

A love letter lies unfinished on the desk, and down on the carpet the pen bleeds ink in a dark, unsightly mess.

At the kitchen door beneath the stack of firewood a snake awakes and tastes the air, and in the garden a group of hens search for worms and bugs.

Ivy creeps up the west wall near the sun room, and overhead a flock of ducks fly past in an unsteady “V”

On the table “An Essay on Criticism” sits open at page fifty-two, and the key to the back door hides patiently under the mat.

The Wise Man

This is Mr Browne. He's tubby and moustached and smokes a pipe -well I say smoke but he forgets his matches so it mostly hangs in the corner of his mouth unlit. Mr Browne thinks cats are the most amusing creatures in Gods creation. He once had to be rushed to hospital after nearly suffocating from laughing at a cat playing with string. But I'm taking you down the garden path, let me return to what I was saying. Mr Browne is a simple, honest and thoughtful man, I often go to him for advice and for his opinion on this and that. "Tell me Mr Browne" I often say "What do you think of steam engines?" He looks upwards to the side and takes a deep breath "Ah well, they're magnificent." We both nod for a while "Magnificent" he'll repeat after a few moments and we'll nod some more.
Mr Brown works with a shovel, if you have a job for a shovel then he's your man, yes sir. He works around the city and in the parks. "The problem with the country" he tells me "is the animal farms, and what do animal farms have?" I shrug "Mud?" He shakes his head "Poop, lots and lots of poop, mountains of it. I don't think so many animals should be locked up such small areas." I think he has an opinion for everything, I think I'll ask Maggie about that, she has a newspaper and flower stand in the plaza. Mr Brown and Maggie are good friends, I think they fancy each other but are too shy to show it. "I say Maggie, do you think Mr Browne has an opinion for everything?" She pursed her lips and frowned (she does that when she thinks, I find it quite amusing) "I dare say so," she says "I dare say so..." She blushes and brushes her hair behind her ear "Sorry what?" She says, "I didn't say anything" I reply.
One drizzly Autumn afternoon I was wandering down by the river, the ground was thick with fallen leaves and sure enough I found Mr Browne shovelling them away. I walked up to him "Afternoon" I said, "Good afternoon mate" he stood up and stretched his back. I nod toward the river "Looks like the river's nearly full?" Mr Browne pointed to the bridge "see the black marks around the pillars?" I shook my head "Can't say I do" Mr Browne bent over and started shovelling "That's 'cos they be under the water, all this here rain has swelled the river." "Will it flood?" I asked, "Nay, she'll be back to normal by next week." Mr Browne took the pipe from his mouth and tapped it on the shovel handle. "Do you believe these stories in the newspaper?" I asked, Mr Browne hung the pipe on the corner of his mouth "I take everything with a pinch of salt..." I nod "A pinch of salt." Mr Browne repeats. As I walk away I glance over my shoulder and smile. Yes sir, Mr Browne is a wise man, a wise man indeed.

1101000100010111110100101101010110101000111101101

Regaining consciousness is like waking suddenly from an intense dream -but the other way round. I gasp and gulp down the cold, musty air. The skin in my head feels like it's gone tight. It's completely dark. I can feel my body now, I'm sitting on a chair I think. My arms and legs are tied. I can feel a blindfold against my eyes. My body is wet, I try and think. My mind races and I have no idea why I'm here or what's happening. I strain at the ties on my arms. I hear a door open and clunk shut. Footsteps come toward me. "Sir" My mouth is dry "Sir where am I?" My voice seems unnaturally loud. I failed again. A stifled scream escapes my starched throat as I'm flung backwards and plunged into cold water. The shock is unbelievable. My heart races and my mind feels shattered. The air escapes from my lungs and panic grabs me like a huge spider, wrapping it's legs around me. I need air, I need to breathe. My mouth  involuntarily opens to gulp in whatever it find to fill my lungs, I try fighting it but my natural responses overpower me and I choke down water. This causes another panic attack and my mind spins like a jet engine. The feeling of breathing for air and choking on water must be the most hopeless feeling in the world. My mind can't handle this confusion and I feel my body go cold as I start to pass out. Blackness races in and smothers me.

Strange Day...

Drinking coffee, I hate coffee. This slice of cake was $12. It doesn't rain, it pours. Nobody is smiling, I like that. I've not made eye contact for 72 hours. It's Summer, Autumn, Winter and Spring all mixed into one. Listening to David Lynch on my mp3 player. Browsing shoes, I ended up buying a silver bracelet. I also have a bright red umbrella, I feel awkward holding it. I have a shoulder bag with Audrey Hepburns face on the side. With my special edition Alice in Wonderland book inside. I broke my fingernail. This day seems to be everlasting. I can't remember waking. I'm going to spend the rest of the day photographing graffiti throughout the city...

Paradigm Shift

I used to love the door because it was a symbol. Now I hate the door. It confuses me. I thought it used to protect me, but now I don't know any more. It hasn't changed, so maybe I have? I think not. Perhaps the world changed around us. Answers have become questions. The door hasn't changed but it has caused me to see everything else differently. I sit silently trying to think back to when the change happened but I cannot. There was then and now there is this. One simple thought. Which is the right side of the door?

Labyrinth of Dreams...

Once

You were king.

You were naive.

You were foolish. 

You lost. 

You had nothing. 

You were depressed. 

You were desperate. 

You believed in hope. 

You were let down.

You were deceived. 

You acted in anger. 

You were exiled. 

You were alone. 

You dreamt. 

You built a city. 

Then.

You were king again.

Jill Tracy - The Fine Art of Poisoning

Fear and Denial

My  footsteps were silent in the plush red carpet. The gas lamps that lit the hall cast strange shadows against the dark, exquisite wooden walls reaching up to the enormously high ceiling. Apart from a moth hurling itself against a lamp, there was not a sound to be heard. I looked back down the hall, it was very long and almost disappeared into the dark before it turned a corner. I heard a creak, it's strange how old buildings do that for no apparent reason.

A thought started to form in my mind, or rather perhaps, a creeping fear. But before the fear materialised, I felt a hand on my shoulder. "Peace my friend." came the rich and comforting voice of Julian. I turned and smiled with relief. Julian put his finger on his lips, "Change is good, but only when one is ready. Otherwise it will result in chaos." I nodded and Julian motioned with his hand, "What see you?" I peered down the hall and squinted "There must be a thousand lamps. I see red carpet and a hallway that disappears into the dark" Julian adjusted the black leather glove on his hand "It is well perceived, you note the light before the darkness. But there is more then meets the eye, my friend." The moth stopped flying at the lamp and fell to the ground motionless. I looked at Julian, "Will I become as such? I'm losing hope and I wear fear as a coat."  Julian's eyes twinkled, "Things will get better. Every ten minutes you'll come to a door. This probably doesn't make sense to you. Probably you'll go through life feeling like it's the inside of a huge concrete dome. But it's not. As I said there are doors everywhere. You can't understand until you can see, but if you can't see then you'll never understand. A paradox? I can't give you the answer because there is none. Everyone must make up their own mind about this."

I was alone in the grand hallway. The gas lamps shone against the beautiful deep red wood walls. I gazed at the designs and ornate cornices. The ceiling was almost hidden in in shadow, but I could see it was full of designs and symbology. I turned around and around, the red walls and red carpet glowed. The antique musk of the ancient building made my head spin, I saw faces laughing and screaming at me through the corners of my eyes. Then I saw it; a door. Only the slightest chink of light could be seen coming though the jamb. Suddenly I knew all along that there were doors. The memories came flooding back all at once, worlds within worlds, dreams within dreams. It left me feeling bewildered and my cheeks were hot. I felt out of breath and paused with my hand upon the doorknob, to let my heart slow, before turning it.

Forgetting Confusion

In the darkness and the cold, 

A voice like the wind bitter and old.

Cried out rebuke and brought to tears,

A naive young child of so few years.

"You lost the piece of the mirror you stupid boy." It all began to come back, the voices, the accusations and fighting. The child did that double sniff that happens when you're almost crying. Then I felt bad that he was crying. He had nothing in the world and now he'd lost the piece of the mirror... So anyway move along. Move along?

Uh, that's a little inappropriate don't you think?

Who are you? "Rose. I'm called Rose." said the girl. She had short, curly blond hair. The Moose took the pipe out of his mouth and snorted. "Rose" he said dryly "We're not in the fifties. Get a haircut..." A few bystanders nodded in agreement. Rose put her hands on her hips. "Which hair should I cut mister?" Everyone laughed and cheered and said things like "Good one." and "Women's rights." and "Why is she talking in red?" The Moose who was a musty old gentleman, tapped his pipe and said. "Now then young woman, shouldn't you be in the kitchen." "I hope someday you'll join us. And the world will live as one" A Rastafarian said whilst walking past. This proved to be too much for the Moose, "First there's women taking over the world, then these -hippies, I can't keep up."

"Chaos..." On the mountain far away a boy tumbles a stone of a cliff. Destruction follows. He is now a man.

Now we come to the scene with Jacqueline, she has red hair and she's rather mean.
"Take your umbrella, then you can use it as a shield against the thorns when we go black-berry picking." Of cause it didn't work. Brooke is such a master of bad ideas. The thorns just tore through the umbrellas. She should go jump in a brook. Haha good one.

Okay, whoa, stop. I thought that was Jacquelines idea. So why did Brooke get the blame? "Because she's weak." Said Jacqueline. Brooke started crying but no one noticed her tears becuase she had just jumped in a nearby brook. Life's not fair and that's all there is about it. Just like the boy who lost the mirror, he's forgotten and alone and nobody cares about him. You can only go so far, some things can't be forgiven.

The tunnels were laid by another generation thousands of years ago. No one knows why or for what purpose. The mirrors on the walls are always a puzzle because glass wasn't even invented when these tunnels were dug. Life had become like a black and white film. We ate porridge out of handmade clay bowls. We forgot the blue sky, yellow sun and green grass. Once something is forgotten it ceases to exist.

 The tunnels went on and on forever. We tried often to remember something we once knew and loved
    but it was gone from us. Had not our emotions gone, we would have panicked or become scared.
        Time became irrelevant. We only talked when we needed to. Sometimes we would stop and
               try to think, as though it was important but the moment escaped and left our minds dry.
                       One day the Moose came into the tunnel where we were resting. Every day we 
                              followed the tunnels until we forgot why we should do so. Our faces we 
                                    blank always for we forgot how to smile and frown. One day the
                                         Moose turned to us, he was smiling. "I remember" He said
                                               and pointed to a door in the wall, a root had slipped 
                                                    beneath it. "What is behind the door?" we just
                                                         had no interest or curiosity and had never
                                                               opened any door we came across.
                                                                    The Moose opened the door
                                                                        and we were back in the
                                                                            Library. It was over 
                                                                               and we forgot it.
                                                                                   Like a dream
                                                                                        it faded
                                                                                          away.
                                                                  

"Pass the tea please." Said Rose. I picked up the teapot and poured her a cup. "I had this strange dream about a tunnel" I said. "Sounds boring" said Jacqueline. The Moose looked over his newspaper at me with an odd expression. The Moth sat down and wiped some sweat from his brow with a shower of sparkles. "Oh my word" said Sally looking at the mirror above the fireplace. "It's as though I were trying to remember that I was trying to remember something but I can't." Jacqueline put down her book and stood up and put down her book and said "Poor child. Something odd just happened, but I can't put my finger on it." The Moose sniffed the air. "I can't smell anything, apart from tea and no biscuits." Jacqueline put down her book and stood up.

"What is my purpose in life?" queried Sally. Silence... "We're out of biscuits, I'll get some" She left the room. "Found it" Mumbled the Moose.

Smoke rises from the valley as the sun sets. The boy walks down the mountain with mixed feelings. More unsure of himself than before. Even the daisies don't cheer him up.

Split fingernail. Peaceful Silence

A horse is standing in the rain.   A dark grey shire horse standing in a field with it's head hanging down.   On one side of the field stands the horse.   On the other side is a hawk.   A hawk sitting on a post.   A brown hawk sitting on a post in the rain.   The horse is on one side and the hawk is on the other side.   They're at opposite sides of the field.   The hawk has a broken wing.   The bones in the wing are broken.   On the other side of the field stands the horse.   The horse is blind.   It's eyes are blinded and don't work.   On one side the hawk with a broken wing and on the other side the blind horse.   There's no sign of life.   Just the cold wet horse with it's head hanging down and it's blinded eyes.   And on the other side of the field is the hawk, sitting on a post with a broken wing.   It continues to rain down.   The grey sky is like a dirty, broken fingernail.   That is all.

Books, Toffee and Coloured paper.

When I was a child I was never allowed to go outside, so I stayed in my room all of the time. To pass the time I made origami. No one taught me, so I figured it out myself. I lived in a house in a big garden. There was a gardener and nurse. She looked after me. Three days after my twelfth birthday I heard a beautiful sound. It was like birds song but I could understand the words. 

"The rose puts on her red;
The leaves on the trembling trees
Grow forth with eagerness.
The moon sends forth her brightness;
The lily is lovely to see,
The fennel and chervil..."

I cautiously opened the window and upon looking out into the garden (which was covered in a blanket of spring snow) I saw a person. They were picking flowers and singing in the sweetest voice I had ever heard. I rubbed my eyes and pinched myself to make sure it wasn't a dream. The person was carrying a basket which was full of flowers, they were wearing a blue coat and had long golden hair. I was never allowed to be outside and the cold air was making me shiver -and then I sneezed. I squeezed my eyes shut hoping the person wouldn't vanish or worse yet that nurse would come in and shut the window. I was biting my lip so hard I tasted blood. Then suddenly I heard a voice, but it wasn't nurses. "Hey, hello up there." I opened my eyes and looked out into the garden, the person had gone. My heart sunk. "Down here silly." I looked down, the person was standing below my window waving a mittened hand and smiling. I waved back "Hello, who are you?' I asked in a shaky voice. "I'm Susan, my dad is the mail man." came the reply, the person pointed back over their shoulder. "What's your name?" I wiped my nose "Why do you want to know my name?" I asked. They shrugged "Your lip is bleeding did you know?" I nodded and licked my lip. Once nurse had talked to me about something which made no sense to me at the time, but now I remembered the conversation. "Are you a girl?" I said nervously. The person put their head on the side and made a face "What? Yes." And then they (or she as I now knew) made the strangest sound I had ever heard. I had sometimes heard birds make sounds a bit like it, a sort of warbling sound. It also sounded a bit like my wind up monkey -although so much nicer. I bet if magic had a sound it would sound like this. "What did you do?" I asked. "What do you mean, what did I do?" "That sound you made." I tried to -but unsuccessfully- imitated it. This caused another outburst from the girl. "It's called laughing you silly." Then the worse thing in my whole life happened. The gardener came around the corner "Hey you!" He shouted at Susan, she picked up her basket, "I'll come back to see you, bye." then she was gone like a hare. After that nurse made me take a hot bath all afternoon and then go to bed early. I couldn't stop thinking about Susan, she was even in my dreams. Every day I sat by the window making origami waiting for her. Twelve years went by but she never returned. 

* * *

One day nurse came into my room with a man who I hadn't seen before. I didn't really understand what they were saying but nurse explained later that we had to go to another place. The next week we moved to another house in the city. It was very small and but I had never been so excited in my life. I sat by the window watching the the people and cars and trucks go by. There was so much noise I couldn't sleep for a whole fortnight. Now we were in the city nurse bought me things. I loved toffee and books. I still kept doing origami. Nurse was also able to get me different coloured papers. I had kept every single one I had folded. Even when I had thrown tantrums I had never destroyed a single piece of origami. One day a man came to see nurse. He had become very interested in the various origami's that were on the shelves and hanging from he ceiling. Nurse called me down because the man had wanted to see me. He was very friendly and seemed to be very interested in my origami. After a long talk or which I had no idea. Nurse explained that he was a rich doctor and also an art collector who owned a gallery in the city. He thought my origami was the most beautiful creations he had ever seen and wanted to put my collection on display. Three years later nurse died and the doctor took me to live with him and his wife. They had no children and treated me as their own. I couldn't answer their questions about my own family for I can't remember having a mother or father. The only people I had known were the gardener and nurse. The doctor had never thought to ask nurse these questions so it remained a mystery to them. I continued to do origami with much encouragement from the doctor and his wife. The doctor told me that my origami was making lots of money, I told him I didn't know what money was. He said it was very important because you can buy things with it, so I said he could have it if he bought me books, toffee and coloured paper. One day the doctor asked me to come to one of the galleries for the opening night of my origami exhibition, I never liked to go out in public but he said it was important and so at last I agreed to come when the doctors wife said she would hold my hand. There were hundreds of people there and the doctor said they were asking me to say something to them. He took me to stand in front of a stand that made my voice very loud. "Say something about yourself and about your origami." said the doctor. I stood for a few moments, I sensed this was a serious occasion and I was meant to say something important. My mind flooded with images from my past. I thought of the most important things that had happened in my life. Then I took a breath and began "Hello." I said, "I lived in a big house and then a small one. I miss the garden." at this point I thought of Susan and thought perhaps someone might know where she was, the doctor nudged me to keep talking. "Susan was my friend, she taught me how to laugh. Does anyone know where she is?" The crowd remained quiet and I took that as a no. "She said she would come back but she didn't. I sat on the window making origami waiting for her, but she didn't come back." The doctors wife squeezed my hand and I continued "Nurse said we had to move, so we did. She bought me toffee and books and coloured paper." I pointed to one of my origami pieces. "That was the first I made with coloured paper. Then nurse died so I live with my friend the doctor who is very kind -and his wife." I smiled at them and they smiled back. "I would like to go now to my room and make more origami." The the doctor clapped and then everyone else did. I waved to them and then the doctor took me home. Then I went up to my room, put a toffee in my mouth, grabbed Treasure Island and some sheets of coloured paper and sat by the window to wait for Susan.