Behind the North Room Door

A chill drifted past the staircase lingered then dissipated; while the rustic oil lamp flickered, hesitating to die. Gasping to calm emotions, before feelings of faint overpower wit. A continuous bumping in the lulling darkness sends an anxious heart racing, with a pulsating echo in the still night. Shadows appear in the faint light, jutting sporadically, lunging in a haze of blindness. Closed eyes make visions vanish; only for a suspended moment. To glimpse the whisper from the north room; would satisfy curiosity; possibly. With humidity high and gelid, no one dare enter the isolated space. A heavy stomping, something sliding from behind the closet door. A sudden moan like a lost whale in a vast sea. Like a dying breath gasping, something pawing, clawing; then no more. In the murky, dank midst of solemn surroundings, solitude submits; flinging the door open. Shall defiance capture fears remotely of the unknown, driving consternations amid reality. Take a step, feel the anticipation of pure anonymous deception. Enter at will, obscurity awaits dreadful clandestine to the weary. The oil light dances and dies leaving the north room door ajar. Copyright © 2006 By Caryl S. Muzzey Eighth Place Winner ~ "Your deepest darkest poem” Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Poet Destroyer March 22, 2013