10 May 2012
As always LOVE to hear what you think, please comment! ************************************ I felt like I needed to sit down, my legs were suddenly weary. Was that possible here? Could you be tired in a dream? "What to do?" I said aloud to myself. Testing to see if there was a response, was that daring or stupid? I knew I was going to approach the open door, it was inviting me nearer in all its filth and glory. I quickly glanced around me. My bravado of only moments earlier had evaporated, leaving me with the much more appropriate sense of apprehension. A thought then leapt into my mind, the birds! I had been here at least 15 minutes and there was no sign of their wickedness. This thought was then zapped by another. Time. I felt that I needed to move on before I awoke or reappeared or whatever freakish thing happened to me. Next time I must wear a watch.
The door had swung back slightly now and I would need to touch it to widen the space for my entry. All the other times I had tried the doors I had been catapulted back into a waking state, shocked but in my room. With the slightest of touch I pushed the once ornate door, it moved with ease and I stepped through. Into the house. And into sound. An awareness filled me, like the feeling you get when you just know someone is conversing about you, literally behind your back. Though this time I knew it was sound, somehow. And to check I scuffed my bare toes through bits of old paper littering the floor. Feeling cold tile underneath shocked me into truly taking in my surroundings. The door had led straight into a room. Old furniture stood about grumpily like guests at a unwanted family reunion. A foxed mirror hung over a Victorian fire place which was shadowed either side by what looked like 70's style pine shelving. It was a total mish mash of styles. Paper! Excitement fluttered inside me. Answers. I bent to collect some scraps only to find they were devoid of writing, pictures or anything. Just yellowed and old, like forgotten packing paper. My eyes shifted upwards as I straightened to stand and a gasp ushered forth from me quite independently. As, covering the wall adjacent to the mirror was graffiti. Hundreds of words in several different hands, going back in time quite possibly decades judging from the fading. Yet one stood out as if written in 3D. "Be aware. You are aware. Time aware. Thought and deed aware. He is aware. Of you."
No Title...part 9 • Opuss № I