Broken Shadows

Broken Shadows She has always had an energetic thirst for life but now incurious thoughts are strung across her mind and there they hang, a washing line of confusion until a nudge of stretching shadows ripple her soul. And the house…. is silent. She moves but her heart, hands and feet appear disjointed, as if ignoring each other, moving in different directions, moving in detached ways, Controlled, dictated by the very medication that keeps her alive. And the house is still… still. A thought sits up and questions if this is her house or is this just her remembrances of her house? Confused she rings her memory but no one answers while the drawer of fragility slides even wider open. The house sits and… considers! She tries to hear the great-grandfather clock that roamed her youth with the language of tick-tock but a distant noise and a remote discord sticks in the throat of the house. A mumbled moment and the house is silent again…as if awaiting… . She’d always been able to look into the darkness as long as she had light.. leading her thoughts. So now she wanders for a stroll inside her mind, alone apart from past thoughts and present fantasies. The house is nervous .. as it watches. A sudden realization knocks on her front door and she now knows this is not her house but a prison cell, with unforgiving bars; the nightmare tightens, a sense of perplexity increases. The house takes a very, anxious breath Suddenly footsteps and the jangle-dangle of keys until ominously the footsteps and keys move in sync. but finally her memory, remembers, recognizes who she is just as the shadows begin to stretch and tighten! The house asserts itself and the shadows… break. Then from somewhere comes momentum, a sense of escape, of freedom and back to reality as she surfaces leaving grasping tendrils of deception behind. But, at ninety seven, is her thirst for life almost quenched. The house acquiesces and sits down to wait! Ian Souter