He did not hear the whispering anymore.
The gentle breath did not tickle and caress his mind with sound. He laid on the ground where he had been for the last ten days.
He imagined his body decaying. He became scared and imagined that his soul would break from it’s fleshy prison and soar. Away from pain and suffering. Away from the nagging distractions that kept him from “living”. Then more thoughts came to him. No more drinking of wine and laughter. No more feeling his wife’s touch or walking together in the woods.
He did not know whether he should consider himself dead or alive.
He felt the taste of blood in his mouth. Was it his? Where did it come from? He was cold and he felt his body was broken, sinking into the earth already. An early funeral. He felt strangely comforted by the ground molding to his body. He even imagined himself becoming warmed by the earth. He suddenly become aware of his senses….
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Every summer he would send her letters. Evelyn was thrilled when they arrived. The anticipation of receiving them after the long winter woul...
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He told me I would always remind him of autumn. The way the leaves turned, the line between decaying leaves and cool breezes, the way the fo... -
At night, the stairs of this old house creaks Whispering to me, sweet spirit sleeping soundly during the night. The shadow movements, the ...
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