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Light
As he entered the room he pushed the oak door firmly against the wall trapping the shadows in a makeshift Tobelerone his hands frantic on the light switch
Even during the hottest summers he declined the comfort of the shade of towering trees.
Each room in his home had rows of light bulbs
Candles flickered in every corner
Neon tubes hummed in dazzling arrays
The constant thrum of individual generators for each living space.
At night thick slats of iron covered every window
opening only with the touch of sunlight yawn
Why do I whisper hello in my empty spaces he pondered his inner voice answering you know why
He shivered as a draught of unknown origins invited the candles to sway in unison
Copyright ©
Christopher Quigley
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