hic vigilans somniat
Standing in the kitchen, I hear the sound of someone coming down the back stairs — slow, cautious . . . almost stealthy. But when I go to check, of course, no one is there. It takes a few minutes for the hair on my arms to lay back down again. My skin is electric, almost burning.
Woken by my daughter early this morning, unable to get back to sleep so I head downstairs to sit in the predawn dark, looking up from my book from time to time as little beads of shadow stream across the floor like dark mercury. An hour or so later, I hear footfalls overhead. They move through the laundry room to… Continue reading early morning
After dinner, my wife runs to the store. My daughter and I play in my office. The whole time, my skin is crawling. I have a sense that someone — or multiple someones — is passing through my office, moving past us unseen. The sensation is uncanny, disquieting. My daughter seems not to notice. When my wife returns, I make… Continue reading footsteps and flashes