"gradually I've come to realise that my house is haunted by the ghost of a dead astronaut"

Wednesday, 9 December 2009

5. The Ambiguity of Twitching Curtains



"A meagre light. A thin envelope of yellow and white and orange energy. So far over there, but scorching my eyelids with promise"

I can still recall the cold of that night as I slept fitfully in my car. There was a frozenness inside the vehicle and most definitely across and inside of my skin. I guess these two 'frozennesses' touched, the inner and the outer, across some divide – some sinewy divide like an ice bridge, if I can call it that, connecting those two different 'frozennesses' that all our lives are capable of.

My first  sense of oneness in ever so long and it had to be the oneness of different 'frozennesses'! Such hardness, oh calloused little life, such cold brutalness!

Is this a true memory, the one I seem to have of the twitching curtain? I seem to recall glancing out of the car, perhaps trying to discern how far I was into the night and how far from morning, and seeing a curtain in the house I was parked outside of twitching.

A meagre light. A thin envelope of yellow and white and orange energy. So far over there, but scorching my eyelids with promise. Not that the light melted anything across me or inside me. It just seemed to peer through the window of my car,  contemplate the chill within and then the curtain closed over again. The merest blink of an electric eye.

That's what I seem to remember. But did that actually happen? Or did I just long for it? And did it happen twice? Once with a downstairs window and once again with an upstairs window?

Oh, the ambiguity of a twitching curtain! A glimpse of light and life, but that really gives nothing to the life that beholds it. So present, yet so far away.

And, of course, I’ve spent a couple more nights asleep in my car outside of that  house since that time. That was just me being silly again though: being in the house and thinking that I'd heard something; spooking myself unecessarily and then finding myself in my car and tearing away from Mordan House as if banshees were on my tail!

Did the curtains twitch on those occasions too? Oh, in time, I would have that answer for sure.

4 comments:

The romantic query letter and the happy-ever-after said...

This bit read to me as a poem. One that is lyrical and dark. Soooo good.
As for your question of "Did the curtains twitch?" You know, I'm going to go ahead and say yes, yes they did but I'll know soon enough I suppose.
You take care.
Simone.

Anonymous said...

Across the road from where I live theres a curtain that twitches. Theres a man who lives in there but Ive never really seen him. Ive started to close my curtains over almost from the moment I get in the flat because its started to concern me. This eternal twitching and then the sense that behind that slither of light theres an eye watching and watching. Sometimes the curtain is open but theres no light inside. I know he could be out but I sense that hes not, that hes in there, watching in the dark. Look at the state of my nails. And my hair. I can feel a little twittering at the side of my mouth like a cold sores coming. It was 12 months ago when I first started to wonder about those curtains. Twelve months.

Not Chicken George said...

yeah yeah yeah ladies ladies lay-deez! I be one a doze little dirty boys. I be twitchin the cur-tayns honey pie! I got da manhood mambo goin on in ma hands wid the peee-nisss - you no wad I mean! hee hee. Was all dis wid your hair an yer nails. hell look at my hair! I aint washin dis shit for no time, I aint geddin da man-ee-cure for no time. I a dirty boy awright. Check my stayns, check my oh-dewer! dat rotten right der. Dat da way of the cur-tayn twitcha honey melon! Dun hide dat booty, shake it shake it baby! Watchin you later. Dun you be shy to buy - deez panties alwayz open fur da luv hing!

Stephanie Fey said...

One of you needs help, one of you needs a skelp. You figure it out.

As for my friend Simone, there's nothing but affection coming your way :)

Oh, Chicken Boy, you're on a warning!

Steph x