hic vigilans somniat
Napping this afternoon on the couch, I dream... ...we’re sitting at the dining room table, my wife and I. I hear someone call “Tom” from the back hallway. I turn to see something there, down at the bottom of the steps — small and pale, almost like a child. “Don’t look!” my wife says just as it rushes up towards me... ...awaken with… Continue reading forearms
In the upstairs bathroom, I stand and wait for my youngest daughter to finish. My back is to the door. Given my history, that’s uncommon. As I help her down off the toilet, I catch a glimpse of someone passing behind me — walking through the hallway just beyond the door. I assume it’s my teenage daughter coming out of… Continue reading passing by
That smell again. A warm, yellow smell of rotting fish. My youngest daughter and I are in the back hallway when it drifts past. It almost seems to stop and turn back, encircling us for a moment. I look down and see that my daughter has wrinkled her nose. After a moment, the stench dissipates. I can find nothing that might’ve… Continue reading stench again
Walking through the office I hear — or I think I hear — my son’s voice, very distinct and clear, call to me. I look back down the hallway but, of course, no one is there.